The Lone Wanderer
by Gilgondorin
Summary: A former outcast living in self-imposed exile from the Jedi Order must now flee from the persecution of the dreaded Order 66 by traveling to remote planets on the far outer rim, and surviving there despite having little in the way of material possessions and nothing at all in the way of friends or allies. (A Star Wars story by the same author of 'The Mountain', Story Num. 12543570)
1. Chapter 1

The swirl of the rising wind billowed along, hissing through endless hilly plains of tall grasses, which bowed and swayed in the chilly air; the slate gray of a heavy, leaden wall of gray completely occluded part of sky as the storm cell moved along, casting everything under it into darkness. Although the towering and seemingly endless cumulonimbus clouds seemed to conquer the landscape and swallow up the peaks of the large, squat mountains in the distance, the pastel blue and pink late evening sky high above reflected the true masters of the sky: a countless swirl of sparkling stars, and three large moons of various sizes.

A lone hooded figure paced quietly along a winding dirt path – its nearly trackless, undisturbed surface, and the sharp line that delineated where the grasses stopped on either side marked its creation to be the handiwork of sentient beings. The low rumble of thunder echoed across the hilly plains – the hooded figure's pace quickened; dirt crunched quietly underfoot, creating a backdrop to the flap of the wind tugging on the faded and in places threadbare travel cloak the loner wore.

 _This dirt path has to be some kind of navigation landmark,_ the loner thought silently, studying it for a moment. The appraisal did little to stir enthusiasm, but it was not necessarily unwelcome given the storm that would soon reach this area; after all, getting caught in inclement weather on a strange and unknown planet could be a potentially fatal mistake. Within minutes, the solitary traveler crested the top of the large, gracefully sloping hill… And spotted buildings in the far distance, at the top of another much larger hill.

 _Civilization…_ The traveler thought, again without much enthusiasm – like this planet, the village was small, and out of the way at least; that offered a mixed blessing of solitude, unfortunately laced with a near total lack of anonymity… And anonymity was an extremely precious commodity to the hooded being. Another rumble from behind quickened the loner's stride a little further still.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

At a guess, there probably weren't more than 30-40 buildings together in total, the architecture of which were all spartan to the extreme. The walls were a sturdy, plain white weatherproof form of plasticrete and plasteel, occasionally dotted with small transparisteel viewports – the type of prefabricated one-piece buildings designed to be used on frontier worlds whose climates could be unforgiving. With the exception of one door that happened to shut behind an inhabitant at that moment, the hooded figure saw no one lining the streets, including pets or animals. If there were any vehicles, they were securely stored away in their hangars or sheds.

The storm would be upon the town within the hour; at a loss, the hooded traveler paused to study the buildings for a moment, and concentrate – the mental scouting mission completed, a likely candidate nearby was selected and the hooded figure approached what was ostensibly the front entrance of the building. An orange finger keyed the visitor's bell; for a moment, there was no answer; then the door was pulled inward slightly, and an inquisitive set of eyes peered forth from the darkness within. "…Who are you?" The inhabitant asked hesitantly, probably having expected to see another familiar face.

"A visitor just looking for some place to get out of the coming rain. And maybe somewhere I could work for room and board. I mean no harm." The hooded figure replied as peacefully as possible; a louder boom heralded the strike of a lightning bolt not particularly far off, and for a moment the eyes glanced out over the rolling hills; artificial darkness was beginning to fall more and more the closer the storm cell got.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help you. Go see Gertrudymede – that's her house over there. She might be able to help you." The villager responded. Bowing politely, the hooded figure stepped away; the door creaked shut very slowly – the loner could feel the inhabitant's gaze until the door finally closed. Approaching the second house, the hooded figure again keyed the visitor's bell – this time, the wait was longer; as the wind began to rise, the loner's spirits flagged. Thankfully, the door finally opened a few moments later.

"Hel–" The resident of the new house began, hesitating again for a moment as the first villager had. "I was told you might be able to help me find some lodging – just long enough to get out of this storm." The hooded figure said, coloring her tone with helplessness, only a small amount of which was false. "Who are you?" The question came again, and this time, the hooded figure knew there would be no evading the question a second time.

"I'm just a lone visitor, coming in peace." The traveler said, slowly raising her orange hands – the action parted the weather worn travel cloak, and exposed the slender form of the young Togruta female beneath; the layer of commoner's clothing beneath lay flat against the creature's body – there was no telltale imprint of body armor beneath it.

"My name is Ashla." The Togruta lied, using the alias to refer to the being that had once been Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Padawan. "…I'm looking for a place to get out of this storm. I was told you might be able to help me; do you know where I can find shelter?" She asked; the door opened a little wider, revealing more of the middle aged human female inside – she was garbed in the even simpler clothes of a frontier farmer.

"Well," The human female replied, hesitantly. "I suppose you can stay here – at least until the storm lets up, anyway. It's not safe to get caught out in the rain here. Come in." The human said, stepping inside; relief filled the Togruta as she strode in; a moment later, the door shut behind her, sealing the sounds of the plains out and leaving only an acute silence in the dimly lit house.

"Ordinarily, this is what passes for a bar in this village. I run it by myself… But it's empty right now since everyone's gone home for the night to hunker down because of the storm. You're lucky you got here when you did; you could have gotten washed away otherwise." The old woman remarked; unsure of what to do now or where to go, Ahsoka merely stood unobtrusively to the side.

The older woman gestured to a doorway that led into shadowy blackness. She keyed the lights for the room, illuminating a living room that had been converted to a passable imitation of a cantina – there were seats along the bar, as well as a sitting area and a battered old holo-projector that made it clear the old woman still used the room for its original purpose.

"Will you be needing anything to eat or drink?" The human asked; Ahsoka chewed her lip – the idea of food sounded delicious, considering she hadn't eaten in over a day and a half. "If it won't be too much of a bother, yes please." Ahsoka replied politely, quietly setting a few _vestas_ – local currency – on the bar. The woman glanced at them for a moment, then walked around the back of the bar. The ring of tableware began immediately.

Ahsoka fell silent, expecting the old woman to begin speaking any moment and dreading it all the while. "So," She began a moment later as she washed her hands, and then removed some odd fluorescent purple meat from a flash-freezer, "What brings you to our little hamlet?" She asked, flash-thawing and beginning to slice it with a mullinine kitchen knife.

"I just arrived on-planet a few days ago; I like the quiet life and thought about settling down out here." Ahsoka remarked, realizing she there would be no polite way to brush questions off without sounding suspicious. "You don't have the hands of a miner or a rancher." The bar tender observed, shrewdly; Ahsoka expertly masked being caught somewhat off-guard by the remark – the old woman's weatherbeaten and wrinkled hands reflected the old callouses of days spent working manually.

"…Yes, well, I'm still thinking about it at any rate." Ahsoka with fake wistfulness, recovering without missing a beat. "I'm better with a hydrospanner than anything else, but I don't mind getting my hands dirty every once in a while." She remarked, as the old woman continued slicing up the odd meat, occasionally dusting a small selection of different spices that Ahsoka could only pray to the Force were safe to eat and inoffensive to the Togrutan palate.

"You're a mechanic then? It's still good honest work; nothing wrong with that." The human muttered to herself, nodding in approval. "The name's Gertrudymede, by the way. Or Gerty for short." Gerty said, pausing to remove a small metal cask from a different cooler, and unstoppering the lid. At once an odd blue vapor began to eschew from it; as she poured the liquid into a glass and passed it to the young Togruta, Ahsoka studied it nervously – it was blue, chilly to the touch, and although she'd had carbonated beverages before, this seemed to be outright _boiling_ at room temperature.

"Best drink that before it goes flat. Tastes better that way." The woman remarked, seeing Ahsoka's apprehensiveness. "I brew it myself from wild fruit that grows here – just don't light any pipes around the vapors, and you'll be fine." She said; not wanting to offend the host, and blindly trusting in the wide series of compatibilities between human and Togruta food tolerances, Ahsoka took a drink. It tasted sugary, sour, and with a heady aftertaste of something else entirely. "If you've got your tools with you, there's more than a few of us here in town that could use your help." Gerty remarked, continuing with the prep work for the food.

"Really? Then perhaps I'll–" What sounded like an explosion outside froze the Togruta mid-sentence; a low rumbling roar shook the walls and roof, rattling the glass of boiling drink on the counter top slightly. However, Gerty continued slicing food and heating pans uninterrupted. "It's just the rain; nothing to be worried about now." She shouted loudly enough to be heard – Ahsoka glanced around the room nervously, but held faith that the human knew what she was talking about.

Privately, Ahsoka praised the Force ardently that the human Gerty had welcomed her in after all; the storm outside sounded like a hurricane – however, the noise did have one positive effect: the two had to speak up to be heard, and that killed off the idle chit-chat between the two before the old human could poke too deeply into Ahsoka's personal business. However, more than once the Togruta glanced around the building nervously, as the storm continued to rage outside.

Ahsoka ate in silence – although the food tasted unusual, it was non-toxic and having something in her stomach did wonders for the Togruta's spirits. The roar of the storm outside continued unabated for a while yet, prompting the old woman to disappear and return a moment later with a folded blanket and a pair of sonic dampeners that she offered to Ahsoka, who took them gratefully. "If you need anything else, come find me. The rain hasn't let up yet – I suppose you can sleep here tonight." Gerty shrugged, gesturing to a recliner nearby.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Once the human was gone and the room was bathed again in darkness, Ahsoka quietly seated herself on the floor and just stared into nothingness for a few moments – as Master Mundi often said, the future was always in motion, and difficult to read. For Ahsoka, it was no exception: she was 'here', for what little that meant. Moreover, 'here' had every possibility of being yet another fleeting stop in the never-ending migration from planet to planet – drifting from planet to planet was dispiriting in that manner.

Rather than give herself fully to the ugly and self-defeating thoughts that plagued her mind more and more these days, Ahsoka quietly prodded herself into adopting a cross-legged position; in the darkness and solitude, the lonely Togruta decided it wouldn't hurt to meditate – it was one of the few Jedi-related things she could still do without risking betraying herself to others even if they happened to walk in on her in mid-trance.

The sonic dampeners reduced the intensity of the thundering rumble of the storm's fury, so that it sounded far away – but, Ahsoka had grown used to sleeping in far noisier and much less comfortable arrangements than this one before. With practice, the quiet background noise could become comforting, sounding like the gentle patter of the regularly storms on Courscant – however, that thought process led to some ugly and painful thoughts; immediately, they were banished as the Togruta emptied her mind.

Ahsoka concentrated, extending her perceptions as she had been taught, stripping away mundane physical barriers and extending her consciousness so that it perceived through the Force itself; soon, the darkness of the room melted away to a dreamy ether in which the Togruta could feel the presence of the locals, and sense their surface thoughts. _Many of the inhabitants of the village are still wide awake,_ She thought to herself. _All of them seem to be going on about their daily lives… And yet, I sense an undercurrent of fear in them – all of them._

Upon that discovery, fear immediately filled the Togruta. The skittish desire to know more immediately clutched Ahsoka firmly, threatening her grasp on the trance. _I could actively read the mind of one of the townspeople and see what's causing them such anxiety…_ Ahsoka thought for a moment, and then dismissed the notion out of hand only a moment later. To push past passive surface feelings and emotions and purposefully touch the mind of another, probing deeper within to memories and conscious thought, was complicated and risky – if the individual realized what she was doing or detected her intrusion, the true nature Ahsoka was working to disguise would be revealed immediately.

The trance began to fade, and the real world began to slip back, as Ahsoka's emotions and fear clouded her sensory perception – through sheer force of finely honed willpower, the Togruta quietly clamped down on her own nervousness and redoubled her efforts to concentrate. _Focus! Think: There are probably only two people in this town that even know you are here – the others can't all already know to be afraid of you,_ Ahsoka silently reprimanded herself exactly as she imagined Master Yoda might, for letting herself jump to conclusions.

 _There's something they're all afraid of, and it's not necessarily me…_ The Togruta thought; however, on that subject, she quietly shifted focus to the mind of the human that had been so furtive as to not even fully answer the door: there was more fear there, _much_ more fear. For some reason, her arrival had in fact jarred his mind into working itself up into a nervous wreck – however, something about the nature in which his fearful emotions and impulses rounded or centered back on themselves gave Ahsoka the distinct impression that he was worrying… About _her_ specifically.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

 **Author's Note:** In case there are any of you out there that are somehow unfamiliar with Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Ahsoka Tano is **NOT** an OC of mine. She is a character from the TV show and (c) Disney/Lucas Arts and all credit for the character/design goes to them. I only put the disclaimer here because I thought announcing this before the first passage would give away too much and ruin the mysterious vibes of the intro. :P

Also, for those curious, the setting of the fic takes place after the end of Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (duh), but before the events of Star Wars Rebels. It's tentatively placed chronologically after the events of the _Ahsoka_ young adult novel which I thought was… 'Eh'? It wasn't bad, I guess.


	2. Chapter 2

Having spent countless thousands of hours living on battlefields, Ahsoka was by nature a light sleeper and accordingly her blue eyes shot opened the moment light spilled onto her face.

"D'you sleep well?" Gerty asked, entering the room and heading for the bar.

Ahsoka sat up, stretching and working her joints and muscles; the pressure spots where the couch had pushed against her ached.

"I did. Thank you." Ahsoka remarked politely, keeping the tension out of her voice.

"I hope you don't plan on leaving today." Gerty remarked.

"Oh? Why is that?" Ahsoka asked, feigning sleepiness.

Quietly, the young Togruta brushed the blankets from her legs – remembering the nervousness of the villagers, she got to her feet, pretending to stretch; all the while, her eyes and attention were kept surreptitiously on the old human, whose hands disappeared behind the bar. Ahsoka's insides clenched nervously with the intimately familiar tension of battle anticipation jitters.

"You may as well go outside and see for yourself." Gerty replied, producing not a weapon, but two glasses from behind the bar and pausing to pour some of the odd blue drink from the night before.

Hesitantly, Ahsoka did as she was told. Outside in the dim morning light, the Togruta took in a deep lungful of chilly air… And beheld the presence of a nearby lake that was not there the night before; in fact, there seemed to be dozens of them now. An miniature ocean she realized after a moment, when she saw they were all one body of water. All around the base of the wide hill was water – it seemed to be why the villagers had built their tiny hamlet at the top of the it. Every valley between this hill and the next was fully submerged.

"Right now's our rainy season, and this happens every so often – here." Gerty said as she joined the Togruta outside, and handing her a cup of the boiling drink. "It takes at least a few days for the runoff to drain from the valleys between the hills and make them passable again." She explained.

"Is why some of the people in town seem a little nervous?" Ahsoka asked, conversationally.

Gerty frowned. "What do you mean by that?" She asked, glancing at the Togruta.

"Yesterday I visited at least one house before I was directed at you." Ahsoka replied, taking a sip of the drink. "The person inside didn't even seem to want to answer the door. I was almost worried I was going to be turned away, and left out in the storm." Ahsoka replied.

Glancing at the flash-sea that had consumed the base of the hill, the young Togruta suppressed a shiver at the notion of being caught outside in such a downpour – her travels with her master, Anakin, had taken her to more than one planet where wind and precipitation could strip the flesh of bones off sentients in a matter of minutes, or carry them off entirely, never to be seen alive again.

"With our community being as small as it is, we can't afford any more trouble than we already have. That's why everyone's skittish." The human responded, taking a sip of her own drink.

"But what harm could a scrawny thing like me do?" Ahsoka asked; as she said that the ironic memory of countless enemies falling before her whirling twin lightsabers rose up in the Togruta's mind.

Gerty waved the Togruta's statement away with a weathered hand. "Don't get the wrong impression about us girlie, because it's got nothing to do with you personally. We just hardly ever get visitors around this time of year; the ones that _do_ show up aren't ever friendly, and we don't have a means of getting off this island-hill when they do." The old woman explained.

Ahsoka started to take a sip, until she glanced away from the water and spotted the doors to the other dwellings begin to open – more than a few of the residents hovered in their doors, staring openly at the Togruta. With the exception of a few, none of them seemed particularly encouraged to approach.

 _There aren't many non-humans here – again. I'll stick out like a sore thumb._ Ahsoka thought to herself, clearing her throat and trying to maintain her upbeat facade.

"Well, the rain definitely complicates things, then." The Togruta mumbled aloud, absently; it would prove hard to move on from here if needed with half the region impassible.

"Yeah, it might. Or it might not. You seem well-mannered; how's your work ethic? I've got a few things that could use patching up around the house, and there's always use for extra hands around town water-farming." The old human said.

Some of the more adventurous townspeople approached. "I'll take a look at whatever you need fixed." Ahsoka responded; integration had to begin somewhere, and this was at least a start.

"Everything alright, Trude?" A asked hesitantly, stopping a respectable distance away.

"Right as rain." Gerty said ironically, raising her glass in a gesture of toast to Ahsoka. "This here is Ashla. She's just blowing through town."

"I'm honored to meet you all." Ahsoka said politely, giving a polite bow for good measure; the hesitant looks of the villagers didn't lose much of their nervousness.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"This used to be the media array." Gertie said, gesturing to a refrigerator-sized device. "It hasn't worked right in months; you think you can do anything with it?" She asked.

Ahsoka took one look at the device and frowned. "There's a blaster bolt carbon scoring mark right in the middle of it. Who did this?" She asked.

Gertie fell silent, for several long moments. "You remember them 'visitors' I told you about? Well, this was their handiwork." The old human female finally replied.

"Who are these 'visitors' you refer to?" Ahsoka finally asked.

"The outsiders I mentioned to you. Raiders with armed starships, and blasters." Gertie replied after a moment, deflating a little – she turned away from the media array and instead moved to occupy herself with busy work behind the bar. "They come every so often and knock our town over. That was some of the collateral damage from one of their visits – it's part of why I told you more than one person might be in need of your services around town." She responded.

Ahsoka fell silent, staring at the blaster scorch mark and the dented front case for several moments in silence; memories rose unbidden in the Togruta's head of all the encounters with Pirates she'd had in the last few short years of her life, by her master Anakin's side.

 _Anakin._

Before the uncomfortable memories could come back any clearer, the young Togruta quickly pushed them away – in that moment, Ahsoka remembered that there might come a day when she'd have to face the consequences of her actions… But it wouldn't be today. The pain was still too fresh.

Tapping on her finely trained willpower, the young Togruta built a wall of thoughts focused around how best to repair the device – trouble shooting methods, manual experimentation, and using what rudimentary tools she had with her to hard-fix what couldn't be replaced, to again push away the bitter memories.

"Here," Gertie said sometime later, bursting the bubble that Ahsoka had sealed herself inside of, blotting all of the rest of the world out. "Is another drink. You been working on that thing for hours now; if it can't be fixed, there's no need to keep terrorizing yourself with it. I'm sure you'll figure something else out eventually." The human remarked, tactfully.

"Actually," Ahsoka said, pausing to check and ensure that all of her work would withstand an electrical load, "I was just finishing up." The Togruta said, turning the device on.

At once, the holo-projector flickered to life, and the picture of a previously saved holo-recording of a Bith band playing illuminated the room; Ahsoka frowned – the sound was distorted, and the grainy picture flickered erratically.

"Well I'll be!" Gerty breathed in delight. "You fixed it!" She declared, slapping her thigh in excitement.

"Hardly." Ahsoka muttered quietly to herself in disabled, pausing as the old human watched to make several tweaks to the circuitry and wiring – with each adjustment, the picture cleared, the sound ceased distorting, and the signal came in stronger. " _There_. Now it's ready." The Togruta declared, finally satisfied.

Gerty paused, keying the front of the device – the band faded away to a stationary Dejarik board; the tiny holographic monsters that made up the game pieces shifted agitatedly, taunting each other while they waited for a player to make an opening move. They disappeared.

"––news, Tarisian officials have––"  
"––irst contestant today is a Rodi––"  
"––anetary weather officials are––"

As Gertie flipped through different holonet broadcasts, the grin grew wider on her face. "It's even _better_ than it was before; heck, when I bought it, I bought it cheap because it was in such bad shape!" She said excitedly, flipping the channel.

Ahsoka grinned tiredly as she began to screw all the circuitry back into place, taking one moment to re-seat the alignment of a power crystal that helped power the entertainment system's transmitter array which she'd almost overlooked, before screwing the electrical panels in place.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

A light on the instrument panel of a passing ship lit up and began flashing. "'Allo 'allo! Wots all 'is, 'en?" The Weequay Helmsman demanded.

Keying a few commands, another Weequay had the signal of the source pinned down within just a few moments as coming from a small hamlet on the surface – a familiar one, at that.

"Hrm… Bloody farmers're lookin' for a satcom uplink calibration signal." The copilot announced over his shoulder to the erstwhile Captain of the ship, whose eyes narrowed.

"'ang on," The Pirate Captain grunted as he sat up, "Where'd the dirty nerf-herdin' little rotters get a media array from? I thot we stole er' blasted 'erm all!" He demanded contemptuously.

"They musta picked themselves up a new one – fancy, too. It's practically screamin' 50 different systems' worth of HoloNet uplink signals at us." The Weequay copilot grinned.

The infectiously wicked smile crossed the Weequay Pirate Captain's face – their home base was dreadfully devoid of entertainment, and it would be a rich Weequay indeed that could bring back an media array of this caliber; merely renting its use and charging pay-per-view on incoming HoloNet transmitted programming in this far off corner of the Galaxy would be worth a fortune in itself. The excitement of getting to sack a hamlet only sweetened the deal.

"Set this bloody ship down right on _toppa_ that damp lil' squat and get me that bleedin' media array!" The Weequay Pirate Captain commanded – he could almost _smell_ the money already coming in.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

News of the newly repaired media array – the only one in the tiny hamlet, and perhaps the only one for miles around – spread quickly through town, so that by the time work was done for the day in the hydroponic vegetable fields each family worked Gertie's cantina-home was filled with nearly every resident in town.

 _Crud…_ Ahsoka thought absently as she introduced herself to yet another wave of farmers eagerly setting down to catch the first game of Nuna-ball some of them had in months – _I'm going to be known to everybody in town by sun down at this rate._ She thought in distress, curling up with her backpack full of belongings on one side of the bar.

"Hey! What can I getcha for dinner? It's on the house!" Gertie said, pausing between serving to approach Ahsoka, who didn't much feel like eating at the moment – the Togruta regretted not having anywhere else to go to wait out the evening rush.

"Whatever you can spare is fine." Ahsoka said meekly; inwardly, she wished she'd have at least had the chance to don her travel cloak, or seek permission to fade off to a quieter part of the house.

Minutes later, Gertie set a stacked plate of more unknown local delicacies before the young Togruta, who at least eyed it appreciatively – food was food, after all, and she hadn't had to resort to something so shameful as force persuading the owner to part with her cast-offs in desperation as Ahsoka had been forced to do before.

Somewhat hesitantly, Ahsoka speared a steamed vegetable that bore a striking resemblance to her right Lekku when the door burst in.

"PIRATES!" The breathless arrival squealed, silencing the jovial atmosphere of the room almost immediately – unheard, the sound of the crowd cheered at the scoring of a goal through the holo-projector's speakers.

"Pirates!?" Ahsok repeated nervously, turning to Gertie.

The uttered word was like flipping a switch – the sudden explosion of frantic movement filled the room as the farmers that weren't too terrified to move all bolted for the door.

"The Media Array!" Gertie cried, belatedly realizing that it must have been what attracted their attention, and scrambling from behind the bar to turn it off as Ahsoka opened the flap of her pack.

The Togruta's hand seized the disguised hilt of one of her twin Lightsabers – then, she froze. The weapon was supposed to be a secret, as was her identity, and had been camouflaged to resemble broken machine parts; to activate it now was to reveal the true nature of her past, and perhaps even bring an entire occupation flotilla of Imperial Stormtroopers down on her own head.

Cursing her own ignorance with words she'd never have been permitted to use while in front of her Masters or at the Jedi Temple, Ahsoka released the saber and shut her pack – she never traveled with a blaster anymore to avoid drawing curiosity.

Forcing herself to relax as she had in the hundreds, possibly _thousands_ of times she'd shared close calls with her former Masters and friends Anakin and Obi-Wan, Ahsoka turned to Gertie, who scrambled to throw an old tarp over the media array and trying to make it look as unused as possible once more – it was undoubtedly a futile gesture.

"What should we do?" The young Togruta asked, nervously.

"Nothing – we can't fight them! We're just villagers!" The old woman said helplessly, moving to steal a glance out of a blinded porthole.

"Can't we run?!" Ahsoka demanded, in disbelief.

"Where?! The hill is surrounded by flood waters! Our speeders can't cross over water that deep, and you'd just get eaten by anything swimming in them!" Gerty cried.

The briefest mental image of adjusting the power crystal on the unit flashed through the Togruta's mind; again, inwardly she kicked and cursed herself savagely for not having been more careful – Ahsoka's throat worked; immediately she took cover behind the bar as her mind raced for a solution.

The deafening smash of plasti-crete being pulverized, intermixed with agonized human shrieks, was audible over the roar of sub-light engines spooling down. "Orra! They landed on your house!" Gerty yelped; although all the remaining six humans gasped audibly, only one of them shot to his feet.

"Sybelle! No!" The human howled, evidently jolted into action by the news that one of his family members was in danger.

The human disappeared out the entrance of Gertie's bar-room, then promptly sailed back in an instant later, collapsing in a heap and sporting three large blaster scorch marks through his chest; wide, unseeing eyes and a slack jaw yawned openly up at Ahsoka as the Togruta stole a glance over the the bar; having grown up around and being desensitized to such violence as a commander in battle, the Togruta could do nothing more than clench her sharp teeth and pray the human might find peace in becoming one with the Force.

The Togruta's sensitive Montrals rang with the loud report of the blaster bolts; they made the amused tone of the Weequay Pirate that strode in a moment or two later, seem quiet and uncanny for a few minutes until her hearing adjusted.

"Alright there, ya wankers?" The Pirate remarked blithely, twirling the gun on a finger woven through the trigger guard as the dead human began to ooze on the Cantina floor.

"What'd ya do that for!? Callan–!" Gertie protested immediately, then was sent tumbling to the floor as the wall of drinking glasses behind her exploded outward, hit by blaster fire; shards of the shattered vessels pelted the old woman, who wisely did not open her mouth again; the Weequay pirate grinned, glancing down at the body at his feet. "Oi, mate. Ah think that withered old munter there wants to have a go at ya fer makin' a mess on her rug." He remarked, grinning wider, then turning his attention back to the others.

"Moi Captain's 'ere about a Media Center – big, shiny, probably new, and with 'is name on it. Wherezit then?" The Weequay asked lazily, striding over the dead human and into the room.

Another farmer, no longer able to withstand such treatment, sprang from his couch… And bolted past the Weequay, grabbing the wall with a hand and hauling himself around it at full speed, fleeing for the street. Outside, the human let out a screech was cut short abruptly as a blaster bolt echoed through the open front door; there was silence.

"Sounds like he's getting on well with the Cap'n." The Pirate remarked, shrugging outward.

At the apex of the shrug, the Pirate's blaster bolt went off again – this time, one of the remaining farmers started screaming, tumbling forward out of his chair, clutching a shin that had been scorched through and through.

"That one was in 'is leg. The next can be 'is head." The Weequay said. "Now then: _Where's tha bleedin' Media Array!?"_ He demanded, making the remaining humans jump with fright.

A wet spot blossomed on one of the terrified farmers' pants; trembling fingers all pointed to the sheet the Pirate had glanced at the moment he walked in the door; approaching, he ripped it off… And stared.

The black carbon scoring mark on the front of the device was plain as day; the pirate shook his head pityingly, and then without looking aimed his blaster back at the leg-shot human.

"No!" The members of the room shouted in unison terrified, the loudest of whom was the intended victim; the Pirate frowned.

"T-take i-it… The s-stupid thing w-w-as f-fixed…!" Gerty sobbed, not getting up from where she half knelt, half lay on the floor, covered in broken glass.

The Pirate punched a button – the device activated again. The Nuna-ball game that had been the source of joy for the villagers only minutes previously and was now the source of their deaths, resumed.

"Weeee-he-he-ell..." The pirate chuckled, evidently legitimately impressed. "The Cap'n's gonna wanna meet the miserable sod that can fix something like that; we've been needin' a spanner-rat back 'ome. Which one'a yer's the lucky one that gets ta comin' with us?" The pirate asked.

"Y-you k-killed him!" Gerty spoke up, hoarsely. "He ran outside and your crony shot him in the back!" The old woman accused.

Ahsoka's breath caught in her throat – the old human woman was playing a very dangerous game.

"Bugger." The pirate said in apparent disappointment, shaking his head.

Ahsoka flinched hard as the deafening report of the blaster resonated within her montrals, and the wounded human screamed again in agony. "...Ya know oi hate it when ya lie to me, love." The Weequay Pirate said, lazily.

"I-it was h-her! The one hiding behind the bar!" The twice-shot cried out in a strangled voice tight with agony and fear.

"No reason to be afraid, love. Come on out; yer too useful to us ta kill." The pirate said, cheerfully, turning to the bar; for several long moments, there was only silence. The blaster thundered again, and this time there was no shout to echo it. "Shame he weren't." The Pirate remarked.

"Now: Get ova 'ere or Oi'll kill ya mate here next if'n ya don't come––" The Pirate began, aiming the blaster at Gertie.

"Leave her alone and pick on someone your own size, Hutt booger!" Ahsoka snapped, finally formulating a plan.

"Come out ya bloody wench or Oi'll drag yer out by ya tongue!" The Weequay snarled, tightening his finger on the trigger.

The Weequay caught a flash of a pair of striped Montrals rising from behind the bar; thinking she was giving in, he hesitated for just a moment. Then, a young Togruta rose an instant later from behind the bar, wrath etched into her round features. She held a keg aloft over her head, and, with strength that seemingly belied her size, the Togruta hurled it at the Pirate, who on fired reflexively on impulse.

Gerty gaped in horror at the sight, as the memory of her remark the night before entered her head: _Just don't light any pipes around the vapors, and you'll be fine_.

The blaster bolt — whose energy dwarfed that of any simple lighter — collided with the flying bubbling blue drink keg, vaporizing and sparking the highly volatile contents within in an instant. There was a bright flash, and then an explosion bloomed in Gerty's small bar-living room.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

 _ **Author's Note:**_ Deepest apologies are extended to readers from England that think they are being unfairly represented in the mannerisms of the Pirates in this series. The Weequay were portrayed in a manner similar to the way they were portrayed in _Star Wars: The Clone Wars_ , and not out of any dislike of Brits; it's simply that I personally don't know much else about Weequay culture in general, and that's all I had to go by as reference for their speech and mannerisms. Personally, I think Dave Filoni overdid it there, particularly after they started saying ridiculous things like 'innit' under their breath while chasing the younglings in the episode ' _Bound For Rescue_ ', but that's what I had to work with.

Respectfully yours,

-G.


	3. Chapter 3

"Good. Yer awake."

The statement was followed by rough hands seizing the front of Ahsoka's shirt; one of them delivered a terrific slap across the face powerful to momentarily bull through the muddy haze that had settled over Ahsoka's thoughts, and send her mind right back to reeling as she fell back onto the table.

"Ye cost me a pirate and a media array, wench, and you're bloody well gonna pay for it." The Weequay Pirate standing over her snarled, dragging her up again by the shirt and delivering another tremendous slap across the other cheek that rolled Ahsoka off the table she had been laying on.

 _NO ONE touches me like that!_ Ahsoka thought, going utterly livid in a instant.

However, the Togruta realized a moment later that something was terribly wrong: the muddy confusion that plagued her had not at all been shaken off; her finely honed mind hardly responded to her thoughts, and her own limbs were so unresponsive and uncoordinated it seemed as though she was controlling them from afar by remote. It took a conscious effort to even get her hands under her.

A prickling, tingling like that of a steady, low-power electric shock radiated outward from the Togruta's throat – before she had the chance to inspect or even ponder the source of the discomfort, a merciless hand clenched tightly on the Lekku at the rear of her head and clenched tightly.

A wordless scream of agony escaped the Togruta, who was dragged to her feet by the horrifically painful yank; the nerve-ending filled appendage exploded with pain that sent the Togruta's already off-balance mind reeling even further and threatening to lose its grasp on consciousness.

The pain – and fear – crystallized Ahsoka's conscience for one shining moment, and she was able to focus both eyes on the Pirate Captain, staring hatefully at her.

 _WHACK!_

The Weequay's head was turned by the force of Ahsoka's knuckles crunching into his wrinkly, leathery-skinned jaw; the hand released her Lekku for a moment – unfortunately, the disorientation that gripped the Togruta's mind drove her to her knees. She remained unable to concentrate enough even to stand.

The Pirate staggered back only a step; the blow had not hit nearly as hard as the Togruta had hoped, and merely holding herself up on her knees and one hand took all of her concentration and effort. An instant later, the livid Pirate fixed her in his gaze, rage seething out of every fiber in is being.

"Kissss… G'kisssssss a Hhhhutt, Ssssarlacc-Breathhhh!" The Togruta slurred, panting from the effort as he lunged at her, fists clenched.

By the fifth blow, Ahsoka lost consciousness to the sound of the Pirate calling her expletives so horrible they were illegal on seven worlds.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

A chorus of shocked gasps and a few gleeful jibes directed at Ahsoka arose from the bystanding Weequay Pirates, observing the exchange in surprise; lost within the mix was one particularly sharp human gasp.

The Captain spat on the prostrate, battered Togruta's form, and then froze. When he jerked his gaze over, he spotted a young human slave sweeping studiously with his back turned as if he'd been completely oblivious to the entire exchange.

"Get me my shock stick!" The Pirate Leader snarled at no one in particular, turning back to the Togruta.

Responses came immediately from the other Pirates, who knew better than to earn the wrath of the Pirate Leader; none dared to question who the order was directed at – several set off at once.

Graykill swallowed silently. The Togruta had actually _struck_ Dorrekk – Dorrekk _The Bone Render_ , for crying out loud! He was perhaps the single most infamous and feared Pirate in this region of the Rseik Sector of the Galaxy; the audacity of the act was unthinkable!

As a lowly slave, Graykill was forgotten almost at once; it was highly fortunate, otherwise the Pirate Leader would have seen the awestruck expression on the human male's face.

 _She's dead… She's oh so terribly dead…_ Graykill thought, breathless. The floor of this section of the landing patch was clean – quietly, and making every effort to remain innocuous, Graykill quietly made a wide circuit of the pad, sweeping and cleaning, and stealing an upward glance only once in a while to get a better view of the unfortunate new arrival.

Where she'd been struck was swelling up terribly – a thin ribbon of scarlet traced down her striking orange jaw, where her lip had been split. Graykill had never seen one of her kind before in person; this far on the outer rim, Togruta were exceedingly rare… And yet, even without the ugly puffiness and bruises beginning to form, it was plain to see: She was beautiful. Graykill's heart clenched.

A terrible nausea gripped Graykill the moment the Togruta let out a low moan, and curled up in a fetal position – she was coming around again. "Get up!" Dorrekk commanded sharply, cursing at her again in several different languages.

The Togruta remained prostrate – Graykill's teeth clenched in helpless sympathy, as Dorrekk stepped forward and delivered a punishing kick to the hapless creature's midsection; however, it was Dorrekk that let out a wordless shout of pain and anger as the Togruta coiled around his leg the moment it hit, and bit down on his ankle fiercely.

Graykill broke out in a cold sweat at the brazenness of the Togruta female's actions. _What have you done, girl!? What in the wide Galaxy are you doing to yourself!?_ He fretted; the Togruta's defiance was magnificent – too magnificent. Dorrekk was an evil and petty creature through and through; he would find a way to repay her insolence, and break her spirit. It was his way.

The Togruta squalled loudly as Dorrekk jabbed the shock staff into her side at full power; however, doing so meant bending low to her – low enough that she released her toothy grip on the pirate's ankle, and spat a bloody gobbet of phlegm back in his face.

Graykill bit his finger firmly to keep from gawking audibly; never before had the human seen such utter contempt from a newly captured slave – old slaves already knew better than to resist anyone, let alone the Leader.

It had taken only one dose of the Pirate Leader's shock staff to reduce Graykill into a blubbering mess the day he had been brought here – the Togruta screamed as the infuriated Captain jabbed the shock stick home again.

The Togruta's body wrenched, squirmed, and convulsed from the electrical shock; Graykill felt helpless. The urge to do something, to intervene somehow, filled the human. _If I don't speak up now, she'll die. But if I do speak up, we're both dead!_ Helplessness clenched Graykill firmly; he hardly noticed his white-knuckled grip on the staff-like broom handle.

Dorrekk roared in pain, again; Graykill flinched, nearly dropping the broom in his surprise: the Togruta evidently _still_ refused to be cowed, and had clamped a hand around Dorrekk's wrist – the Weequay's shock stick flooded electrical energy into both of them now.

 _By the stars…_ Graykill thought, in the midst of the commotion; he had actually seriously considered using his lowly little broom to attack Dorrekk on the Togruta's behalf. However, she seemed to still have a surprising amount of fight left in her even now.

Unfortunately, the other Pirates stepped in now, determined to end her defiant streak once and for all. One of them stuck the Togruta in the head with the butt of a blaster rifle, breaking her concentration and her hold on Dorrekk's arm – the sound of the stock colliding with her head nearly brought tears to Graykill's eyes.

Amidst the commotion, the human's horrified whimper was lost as a vibro-dagger was pulled from a boot, and one of the Weequay Pirates dropped to a knee beside the captive, intending to use the blade to saw off the Togruta's head from her shoulders.

" _Stop!_ "

The Weequay with the vibro-dagger froze – the blade hovered just inches away from the Togruta's neck; the collective breath of everyone in attendance held – for her part, the victim remained motionless, evidently having lost consciousness again.

Dorrekk's rage built so that he seemed to wheeze with fury. "Don't ya lay a bloody finger on 'er. This miserable slag dies _slow_ , understand?! _Really_ slow! Take her to the holding cells and _starve_ the bloody tentacle-headed wench! Lesse how much of a bloody fight she's got left in 'er here in a few weeks!" The Pirate Leader snarled.

Graykill's stomach tied itself up in knots in an instant – the human male had witnessed such a debacle once before, in which a pirate that had angered Dorrekk was allowed to languish to death, being fed a little only every so often, so that it took him several _months_ to finally refuse food at all and starve himself to death.

The Togruta was in fact as good as dead; Graykill faded out of view by hiding behind a stack of crates, realizing he could no longer prevent his eyes from watering – as tears streaked down his cheeks, he realized he couldn't prevent the tears from falling.

 _I certainly couldn't prevent her from getting mistreated either._ Graykill thought, desperately trying to keep from sobbing loudly enough to be discovered as he pretended to busy himself salvaging parts and components from a refuse pile

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"Human-Graykill, you are upset. Were you beaten again today?" An Ithorian's watery voices – all four of them – gurgled as Graykill sat, knees to his chin, on the dirty mat that served as his bed.

"I'm… Just… Not feeling good, Loorpa. Is all." Graykill mumbled in response.

Loorpa remained silent for several moments. "I overheard that a new captive was brought here earlier today. Was this sentient someone you knew?"

"I've never seen her before in my life, but–" Graykill clamped his mouth shut, and his brow furrowed; the thoughts of the day replayed in his mind constantly, and in his distracted state, he'd nearly blurted out his most personal thoughts to the Ithorian.

" But?" Loorpa questioned.

"–'But' nothing. I just hate seeing free people get turned into slaves by Pirate scum like Dorrekk. I hate knowing they're in for the same misery and shame of slave life that _we_ live." Graykill said, attempting to brush the mercury-eyed alien off.

"I heard she was to be starved for angering the Captain." The Ithorian remarked, hesitantly. "Are you partial to this individual?"

The nature of being slaves forced Graykill to work together or at least cooperate with his fellow slaves, and Loorpa was the closest thing to a friend the young human male had here – yet even so, the Ithorian's prodding was beginning to irritate the Graykill.

"Of course not. She's a total stranger, and not even from my race." The young human male said. "Why, I don't even think she speaks common very well, if at all. I just… Hated to look at her and know what kind of suffering and misery she's in for." Graykill finished.

"…I suppose this is indeed true, Human-Graykill." Loorpa replied, silently pondering Graykill's dismissal of the new arrival for only a moment. "…It will sadden me equally to know she has such a terrible end ahead of her." The Ithorian said.

For Graykill, any victory in successfully fooling the Ithorian was utterly Pyrrhic – until now, the human in his youthful naivety had been willfully ignoring how badly the odds were stacked against him. _Even if she does speak basic, what are the odds that she'd be interested in a human?_

There was also the ugly fact that she was essentially dead – she probably just hadn't realized it yet. That idea stuck in Graykill's mind, and it haunted him. From her actions, she was definitely a headstrong, willful individual – perhaps more so than anyone Graykill had ever seen. And while it was a romantic trait, it was also a fatal flaw.

 _How long will she torture herself? How long will she force herself to soldier through their torture, never realizing they'll never spare her as long as she lives? How long will I have to sit here, knowing that she's in such pain?_ Graykill wondered. _Why couldn't she have just bowed to submission? Why!? She'd be here now, alive._

Mercifully, if Loorpa suspected any further meaning in Graykill's continued silence, the Ithorian said nothing more; shortly after, the overseer strode in.

" _LIGHTS OUT, YA HORRIBLE LOT!_ "

A hushed shuffle passed over the slave barrack-room, as conversations died and everyone hurriedly filed back to their separate spaces for the night. Graykill's unblinking eyes stared up into the blackness of the darkened slave quarters long after the first quiet snores began to fill the bay.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Ahsoka's head felt like mush, literally and figuratively – the Togruta glanced around for a long moment, concentrating hard past a swollen eye and spotting no other souls in the jail-like holding chamber she now found herself languishing in.

Only once she was absolutely sure that she was alone did she allow herself the small luxury of breaking down. Such headstrong pride was one of the many qualities the Togruta had learned from her master Anakin, and it had been a source of displeasure to the other masters; it defined Ahsoka… And it rankled at the idea of giving her captors the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

The throb of her face and stomach made it agony to open her mouth more than a little. The muddy feeling in her head made her feel exhausted – _I've probably got one hell of a concussion,_ she thought to herself bitterly… But it paled in comparison to the fact that she had been shackled to a wall standing up and with her arms raised out to each side.

Such a position would tire her muscles out and make them burn terribly with soreness within only a few hours at most – moreover, the manacles that bound each of her wrists were already cutting into her skin. In this position, the longer she sagged, the worse the pain would be in her wrists.

The Togruta gulped in fear – it would be next to impossible to sleep in this position, and already her concussed head was making her very drowsy; _I've only got to last until they let me down…_ Ahsoka thought, trying to pierce through the tingling confusion radiating outward from her head and neck.

 _Actually, to hell with that. I'll let myself down, and when I do…_ The Togruta thought waspishly; however, a terrifying reality presented itself almost immediately: She literally couldn't concentrate to save her life.

Panic welled up in Ahsoka, clenching her heart and making her breathing shallow and rapid; icy tendrils of fear chilled her to the core, as she tried to think back to the fight in the unnamed town she last remembered being in.

She had used The Force to attack the Weequay Pirate, pushing him bodily into the Media Array the dastard had originally come for. She had tossed a keg of the explosive, heavily carbonated blue liquor Gertie kept behind the bar at the Weequay. The pirate had shot the drum… And then what? Ahsoka's memories faded there, and try as she might, she could not concentrate long enough to think past the painful, tingling, whole-body numbness that held her firmly in its grip.

Perhaps the Pirates had beaten her so senseless that she had suffered severe and irreparable brain damage! Even though Ahsoka had been forced to turned away from being a Padawan when she'd chosen Exile from the Jedi Order, the idea of being fully deafened to the Force itself was the blackest idea imaginable – to a Force-sensitive, it would be worse than being blinded, deafened, and rendered a quadriplegic.

 _No! Don't give into the fear!_ Ahsoka thought – however, a rampant utter terror almost unlike any the Togruta had ever known filled her anyway, and for once her finely trained mind was unable to regain control of itself.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

 **Author's Note:** Please note that this fic is not what it looks like; it is by no means an Ahsoka abuse/hate/punishment fic; stay tuned for further developments.


	4. Chapter 4

A fist colliding with Ahsoka's bruised abdomen jolted her awake excruciatingly – in spite of her prideful nature, her assailant's knuckles had collided with the terribly sore spot from being kicked by the Weequay Pirate Captain the afternoon before, and it blasted the air from the Togruta's lungs in a shrill scream that was partially drowned out by malicious laughter.

"Mornin' love. Captain sent me to bring ya a bite. Oi'll leave it right hear for ya and you can tuck in whenever ya fancy." The stranger Pirate standing before Ahsoka simpered, flashing hideous blackened and yellowed teeth from the stars only knew what kind of spice chewing habit.

The Pirate set the tray of hideously unappetizing food on a crate pulled up beside her… Then he crossed his arms, and leaned against it, making no move whatsoever to free her.

Ahsoka swallowed – though the food looked terrible, the rumble in her stomach reminded her that she had been getting ready to sit down to a dinner in the village when the Pirates attacked. She was in fact hungry – but the odd look on the face of the Pirate unsettled her.

"Llllet me downnnn sssso I cannnneat, Nnnnexu breath." Ahsoka commanded; the Pirate's crooked evil grin spread even wider, and the Togruta belatedly realized what the game was about – she fell into an infuriated silence, as hot rage clenched in her stomach, temporarily blotting out the hunger pains.

"Hmm, ya don't look hungry, lass – ya haven't touched your scrump. Guess Oi'll hafta tell the Cap'n yer too good for our food." He said, standing up and taking a deep slurp of the gunk in the mess tin, and smacking his mouth loudly.

Ahsoka's eyes narrowed, and the frustration and pain made the skin of her sore arms tingle; pursing her full lips tightly for a moment, the Togruta spat again. The was of spit smacked into the Pirate's jerkin, and he snarled in disgust.

The Weequay Pirate tossed at the Togruta's face – she tried to ignore the pain of the tin skipping off her already sore head, as the horrid looking glop that constituted 'food' dripped off Ahsoka's face. "Ya still got some fight left in ya, wench. Let's see how long ya keep the act up." He snarled, ripping a section of Ahsoka's shirt off from her midriff, to clean his jerkin.

Again, this was tossed at the Togruta's face – by the time it fell off, the Pirate was already clomping off to the solitary door that led out of the prison hold.

It took considerable effort for the Ahsoka to control the tremble in her lip – clenching her eyes, she felt warm tears trickle down her cheeks; this was a fine mess she'd gotten herself into, and unlike so many hundreds of times before, Anakin and Obi-Wan would not be coming to save her now.

Again, Ahsoka tried to fend off a rising tidal wave of fear, hate, and anger – those negative emotions, the things that she had worked so hard to distance herself from all her life… Seemed to be the only things that were ever truly with her these days.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

 _I can't. I can't give into despair just yet._

 _I won't._

Such were the first coherent thoughts through the Togruta's mind once some unknown length of time spiraling in solitude had elapsed; Ahsoka paused to gauge the already harsh stiffness in her arms – the finely muscled limbs, so used to swinging the extremely heavy hilts of a lightsaber, were finally reaching the end of their considerable endurance.

The Togruta he didn't have to look up at her wrists to know that the warm dribbles felt every now and then when her arms sagged against her manacles would be thin ribbons of bright electric blue blood; she glanced around the prison bay, spotting a dozen sentient and beast cages, crates, other sets of shackles, and an electrical panel that likely controlled everything.

 _So close… And yet so far…_ Ahsoka thought bitterly.

However, again the Togruta quieted her thoughts – for a long while, she tried to focus on something. Anything! Even to move the mess tin laying on the floor at her feet, just to reassure herself that she still felt the Force in _some_ small way…!

Again, a bitter wave of disappointment filled her again as she failed to so much as twitch the mess tin even once – she hadn't had such problems since she had first started training as a youngling.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Graykill paused, pacing quietly through the corridors – although his responsibilities in the kitchens were technically fulfilled for the time-being now that lunch had been served, to be caught in this section of the Pirate compound so soon after was to flirt with certain death.

The Prisoner's hold was off-limits to slaves except under strict orders to clean out a mess there by Brekk, the Quartermaster – the large, brutish, and very fearsome Weequay Pirate who was second only in command to Dorrekk himself – and to be caught there particularly under suspicion of attempting to make contact with a Prisoner, was to flirt with certain death.

Graykill silently stole along, straining his ears for the slightest sound that might betray the presence of an approaching guard – nothing. Quietly, he peeked around a corner; perhaps because there was only one slave, the jailer's chair sat unoccupied; relief flooded the human male as he quickly crept along to the door.

Unsurprisingly, the Pirates had grown incredibly lazy and complacent with a horde of slaves to do their bidding – Graykill quietly punched in a code that one of them had given him in the course of shoving off a duty onto him that should have been done by themselves.

 _ **Access Denied**_

Graykill paused, running through the other codes in his mind, and tried a second sequence of keystrokes, holding his breath.

 _ **Access Denied**_

The human male ran his hands through his hair, still oily from working in the Kitchens just minutes earlier; it was entirely possible he'd risked everything – life, and limb – to come all this way for nothing.

 _Forget it. I'll have to come back later…_ Graykill thought in frustration, gritting his teeth so hard it made him feel nauseous for a moment; long moments passed in silence, and with each passing second, the human realized his chances of being spotted by a random passerby increased. However, a thought occurred to him the moment he finally decided to give up.

 _I haven't tried Xlaarrt's old password… After all, these brain-dead spice fiends never bother with to keep up with security anyway…_ The human thought, thinking of the password he'd eavesdropped from the Pirate that had been starved to death months ago.

 _ **Identity Verified – Access Granted**_

A grin split Graykill's face from ear to ear – the doors slid open and he immediately scuttled inside the prison bay.

The large room was dark except for one ceiling light shining directly on the only prisoner within the entire chamber: the Togruta – Graykill's heart sank. She looked terrible compared to how he'd seen her the day she arrived.

The Togruta sagged in her bindings, apparently unconscious or asleep – judging by the swelling of her face, Graykill dreaded she may have gone into a coma, or at least passed out. Maintaining his silence, Graykill began to crept forward, hoping to gently rouse her.

However, clomping footsteps outside the door made Graykill freeze, internally and externally: There were visitors coming; forgetting the original purpose of his visit entirely, the human slipped behind some crates nearby, disappearing behind them the instant before the door opened.

In strode a pair of Pirates. "…is the one that won the Captain's good graces." One of the Weequay growled to the other, as they strode past Graykill's hiding spot. The human's eyes dilated to pin-pricks; evidently the keypad had generated an alert kicking the Togruta once and jarring her to wakefulness.

"Don't look like much anymore do ye? Ya rotten bloody lump." One of them asked the captive; a rattle of chains signified the Togruta rousing to wakefulness; the alien female responded, her tone sharp.

A bawdy chuckle drew forth from the two Weequay. "Still got a bit of a tongue on 'er, ain't she?" One asked the other – Graykill's eyes widened as he realized the Togruta had likely insulted them again.

 _Don't you know when to give up!?_ He thought to himself, helplessly – and then stopped. If she had any idea what kind of long, slow death was in store for her… Perhaps she was doing the only thing left to do: irritate one of them so much that they got fed up, lashed out, and put a premature end to her misery.

An horrible, helpless, aching sympathy for the captive Togruta filled Graykill – he heard the ring of flesh against flesh, and realized one of them had struck her probably across the face again. Cautiously, he peeked behind the crates, and caught only a glimpse of her in the light; it hurt the human's heart to see her in such bad shape. Her face bore clear signs of terrible mistreatment, and moreover, parts of her face were covered in some kind of dried filth.

"You'll bloody get water when we say you get water, filth!" One Weequay snapped – and followed up the statement with a wad of spit.

At this, the Togruta fell silent, saying nothing. "Ent so high and mighty now, eh?" One growled cruelly – harrumphing in disgust, the two turned and strode past Graykill's hiding spot on their way out the prison chamber.

 _I can't stay…_ Graykill realized, helplessly as the door shut behind them – it had been a fluke of luck that he'd missed getting discovered just then; to stay any longer was to invite certain doom… Particularly since he had already overstayed past how long he planned this excursion to be.

 _If I don't get back, Brekk will have my head – and everything else!_ Graykill thought, realizing he was probably dangerously close to being missed for his afternoon rotation of chores; to be late, was to be beaten – if one was lucky.

Waiting until the two Weequay were gone, Graykill glanced back at the Togruta, and silently wished to any god or gods that might be listening that she not suffer excessively; then he was forced to sneak out the door, and practically run to his next routine assignment.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

This night was even worse than the one before, because now Graykill could haunt himself with mental images of the Togruta's beautiful face battered and twisted.

 _Something has to be done… But what? They'll continue to beat and mistreat her unless something is done. But I can't rescue her – we'd get blasted to death in an instant, or hunted down like Nuna!_ Graykill thought, gripping his hair tightly in his fists as he lay on his mat.

 _There's go to be a way to buy her some time – if only to try and figure a plan of some kind. Anything is better than nothing! They'll start to do even worse things to her as time goes on… But what can I do?_ He wondered.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Having spent years among their number, Graykill had learned early on – as all slaves did – to study the temperament and personalities of his different overseers, so as to best avoid incurring the wrath of the most volatile and cruel of the Pirates.

The first of the Weequay Pirates that Graykill deemed least risky to exploit was one of the least intelligent of the bunch, and with an equally short temper. The Pirate had been posted on perimeter guard duty on the edge of the compound – on the premise of being made to deliver food to the Pirate, the young human made the first move of his extremely tentative and hastily concocted plan.

On the under the guise of being ordered to delivering food to the sentris, Graykill slipped out to the perimeter of the Pirate base late the next morning. His target Pirate sat in a crude imitation of a guard shack, snoring deeply in spite of the relatively late hour – Graykill smelled strong liquor still on his breath, which likely meant he was still half-drunk from the night before. It would only make approaching him a little easier.

"Pssst. _"_

At first, there was no answer.

" _Pssst!_ " Graykill whispered, more insistently.

The Pirate snorted awake, glancing around at first in nervous confusion at being roused; Guard duty was perhaps the single most monotonous, hated, and boring detail that the Pirates could be assigned to, but it was one Brekk still took very seriously – Xlaart, the pirate that had been sentenced to death by slow starvation, had allowed a group of slaves to slip right past him as he dozed on Guard one night.

However, upon seeing Graykill, the Pirate jumped to his feet, scrabbling for a metal club leaned up against his chair. "Wait! Stop! You don't want to do that!" Graykill said hastily.

The Pirate instantly grew livid, mistaking Graykill's plea for a threat. "I didn't mean it that way! I have to tell you something!" The human babbled, throwing his hands up; the raised club waivered in the air for a moment, hesitating.

"Whacha fackin' want, ya miserable ssssoft-skinned little space sssslug!?" The Pirate slurred.

"Rumor is some of the others are thinking of organizing a bet – but it didn't sound like they were going to deal you in." Graykill lied – silently, he prayed to the stars that he was doing the right thing.

Except for alcohol which was forever in short supply around the liquor-swilling Weequay, there was precious little to do for fun around the Pirate haven, particularly now that the winter star-system cycle meant raiding generally slowed to a crawl. Thus, gossip and gambling became the de facto source of entertainment in th entire camp, even among the slaves.

"What's the bet?" The Weequay demanded, pausing.

"To see how long it will take the Togruta that pissed off the Captain to starve to death." Graykill said, swallowing – the last time a bet on a Prisoner's odds of survival had taken place, Xlaart had been the victim; those of his former comrades that bet he would survive the longest would smuggle him food in the hopes of prolonging his life and maximizing their chances to win… And those who had bet he'd die faster would then sneak into the bay to beat him until he vomited all of it right back up.

"There's going to be a strict set of rules so that there's no cheating like last time." Graykill explained. "This time, nobody's going to be allowed to lay _a finger_ on her."

The Pirate scowled, and for a moment, Graykill felt only utter terror as he could see the gears turn in the Weequay's head.

"Am-Shak blast those those filthy wankers for cuttin' me out!" He snarled under his breath, evidently buying into the lie. "Oi'm gonna take that bloody bet, and Oi'm gonna split the bleedin' wig of any one of them sneaky lyin' sods what tries ta tell me otherwise!" The Pirate snarled, and Graykill felt himself breathe again, in relief.

However, as he file past the Pirate, the metal club caught the human between the shoulders, blasting the wind from his lungs and sending him crumpling to the ground. "…–– _And thissss is for wakin' me up!_ " He roared, beginning to whack Graykill with it.

 **[#########*##]==================================================**

By the time Graykill finished his delivery rounds to the perimeter stations, he was covered in bruises, welts, fresh and dried blood, and walked with a pronounced limp.

Unfortunately, the most foolish of the Weequay were also usually the most violent; more than one of the other Pirates had taken some of their frustration out at being disturbed, or 'excluded' from the bet, on Graykill. However, it seemed that few hesitated to believe that an illicit bet was being organized under their noses – such was the Pirate way.

More than a few fist fights broke out once the brutish Guards on duty rotated off watch and returned to camp, demanding to be let in on the 'action', and mistaking genuine ignorance on the part of the other Pirates as proof that they were lying to cover-up the bet and keep it secret.

Most importantly, none of the participants batted an eyelash when the stipulation that the Togruta had to remain unharmed was mentioned – last time, the accusations of cheating had resulted in infighting that had nearly brought the Pirate haven to its knees; at this, Graykill blew a hesitant sigh of relief.

By the time the pirates began filing into the kitchens that evening, Graykill could hear plainly the tables and serving line abuzz with discussion about the bet, and talk turned to proposed wagers, stakes, and odds as he worked feverishly in the kitchen.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** This chapter should probably be considered grimdark and may be disturbing to some. As always, everything was toned down as much as possible to keep it from getting explicit. Reader discretion advised.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

With the utter silence of a slave used to sneaking his way around a compound full of violent Pirates, Graykill stopped near a ventilation grate, and listened.

"––betting on the girl and I can't stop 'em all. Dunno who started it, but even _I_ can't bloody well keep an eye on them all. Every one of the stinkin' louts knows about the bet by now." The gravelly voice of Brekk, the Quartermaster echoed through the vent.

"Then it's time to change the tactic." Dorrekk's equally rough voice growled back.

"Whacha mean by that?" Brekk asked, suspiciously.

"The only reason that manky git of a Togruta's here in the first place is because _I brought her_ _'_ _ere_." Dorrekk replied, finishing the statement by pounding his finger into the table for emphasis.

"Dunno how she did it, but the wench set off a detonator or a bomb of some kind and blew up moi media array. She cost me a heap of bloody money, and killed Squig, which means owes me… And if there's any bettin' to be done on her head, then by Am-Shak's left leg, those scaliwags'll go through me to do it." Dorrekk spat.

Brekk was silent for a few moments. "How's that then?" The Quartermaster asked.

"Whoever sets up this bet becomes Croupier. If all of them guess wrong and miss the time of death and lose, then the house gets to keep all the loot. Even if they don't, house still gets the lion's share of the money – _my_ bloody money." Dorrekk stated.

"These piss-drinking idiots know that. They know better! It's bad enough that they got the idea into their filthy skulls that they could keep this a secret from me; none of them will fess up to being the ring-leader." Dorrek continued.

"The way I see, it's my right as leader of the whole rotten lot of them to organize this bet, which means any-quay tryin'a go over me head's fancying himself as replacement leader, and it'll be a freezin' bloody day on Tattooine before I let some upstart little prat muscle in on what's rightfully mine." The Pirate leader seethed.

"You come down like a neutron star on their bloody heads, understand? Make it known: Any bets made go through _me_ , or a fackin' distuptor pistol bolt's gonna go through _them_. Understand?" Dorrekk demanded.

"It'll make enforcing the rules of the bet easier too," Brekk pondered aloud. "…Because now, I can blast any idiot tryin'a sneak in any bit of skulduggery like last time on the spot." Brekk said, with equal parts amusement and malice. "I'll sort this lot out double quick then." Brekk said.

"Good. I'm gonna start gettin' the ship ready." Dorrekk said.

At this, Graykill hesitated, beginning to pull his ear away from the vent – it sounded as though the conversation was drifting away from anything interesting, and he'd already risked a lot eavesdropping on what he already had. However, on impulse, the human lingered for a few seconds longer.

"––are you off to, then?" Brekk asked.

"Back to the wet squat we picked her up from in the first place. The bleedin' Nuna-spawn farm rats there were already sitting on that media array; I'm gonna toss the place to see what else––" Dorrekk's voice faded away.

Satisfied that he'd heard what he wanted to hear, and feeling increasingly skittish for having spent this long in one place, Graykill dismissed the rest of the conversation, abandoned the grate, and resumed mopping the floor – the decision was wise; only a dew moments later, a hallway patrolman rounded the corner and filed past, spitting on Graykill as he did so.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

The terrific discomfort of her empty stomach began to bother Ahsoka more than a little – although a Togruta could survive roughly the same three weeks a human could without food, she had already had little enough to eat as it was in the week preceding her capture.

In this room without a clock, or even the windows to look out and see a sun – any color sun – time ceased to have any meaning. With nothing else to focus her attention on, the Togruta began to focus inward, to the emptiness within her that not even her muddled mind could fail to remember.

The emptiness in the Togruta's stomach began to mirror the emptiness in her soul; it had been Ahsoka's habit to meditate or keep busy with her hands in order to keep away thoughts of her life as a Jedi – unable to concentrate on anything, the Togruta's mental defenses crumbled, and the painful memories came screaming back.

 _It is the counsel's opinion that Padawan Ahsoka Tano has committed sedition against the Republic… And thus, she will be expelled from the Jedi Order._

 _Your Padawan Status will be stripped from you. And you shall forfeit all rank and privileges within the Grand Army of the Republic... Henceforth, you are barred from the Jedi Order._

The Togruta had been wholly unprepared for the cruel and merciless hand that had reached into the very depths of her being in that moment, and ripped the beads from her Padawan's headdress at that moment.

The movement had been quick, the action physically painless – and yet Ahsoka had flinched as if the bead were physically tethered to her in the same way as a furred sentient's hair might be torn from her; she couldn't have helped it – it was more than a symbol of rank; like a Lekku, it was a mark of her very being.

As a Togruta, and a Jedi, Ahsoka had grown up with fanatic devotion to the idea of being just one part of a greater whole… And to be cast out from it had resulted in the greatest feeling of abandonment and rejection she'd ever known.

Such abandonment had finally come full-circle. She had no one to talk or turn to – she was well and truly alone, and now she would finally pay the price of being cut off from the herd; already Ahsoka had begun to suspect that this deprivation would not be temporary – her shoulders sagged and her head bowed ever lower, as the crushing reality set in

 _Maybe it would have been better to go back after all – if only to die quickly and in the company of familiar faces, instead of wasting away here in this dank hole._

The door opened, and a Weequay strode in, sporting a grin that instantly put the Togruta on edge.

Ahsoka's heart rate quickened, and her insides clenched in fear; the Togruta's grin grew even wider as he saw her reflexively tug at her restraints nervously.

"Hmm… I heard we had a new _female_ prisoner in." He remarked blithely, letting his gaze run appreciatively over her – instantly, Ahsoka's skin prickled. This couldn't be happening.

"Head-squids like you aren't my thing – to squishy. But then again you're new, and you look like you still got some spirit left in you. It'll make things more interesting than the slave girls that lay there." He grinned, evilly.

"No. Please don't." Ahsoka managed to choke out – she called to the Force, and heard nothing. It seemed somehow poetically ironic that it too would have turned on and abandoned her as well, even now in perhaps her moment of greatest need.

The Weequay rested his blaster rifle against the side of a grate, and approached, running a disgusting smelling finger across her cheek – his putrid breath washed over her nose; Ahsoka couldn't tell if it was the stink or the fear that began to push the tears from her eyes.

"We're gonna have lots of fun together, you and me." The Pirate muttered aloud, reaching for the hem of the Togruta's pants and beginning to cackle wickedly.

"Stop! Please! You can't do this!" Ahsoka said, trying to kick, tried to struggle – it would be in vain she knew, being bound the way they were, and the Pirate knew it – his laughter grew louder.

 _ **BLAM!**_

Ahsoka smelled atomized flesh, the burnt, acrid stink of Tibanna gas, and the heady smell of Ozone; the Pirate fell back, beginning to screech loudly and clutching the burnt hole that used to be his knee.

The Togruta opened her eyes, and a large and muscular Weequay strode in, saying nothing – with one hand tucked lazily in his belt, the other jerked as his blaster recoiled thrice more, taking the would-be attacker in the arm, chest, and then finally the head; silence filled the bay, except for the ringing in Ahsoka's sensitive, ear-like Montrals.

"Filthy animalistic scum!" The Pirate spat aloud, barely audible over the ringing; Ahsoka suspected at once the disproving statement had merely been a curse on his part, and not for her benefit.

The Pirate looked up at Ahsoka, and an unconscious gasp of fear escaped her; he grinned humorlessly, twirled the blaster with a practiced flare, and holstered it. "Sorry love, no excitement for you tonight – Captain's orders. I overheard talk that old Borrk here was on his way down here to see you, and it looks like I got here just in time." The Pirate muttered, coyly.

"After all: we wouldn't want him to rough up the merchandise and spoil the rest of our fun now, would we?" He asked, and way he stared at her as he mad the reference gave Ahsoka pause.

"You best get back to what you were doin', lass. Ya got a lotta work ahead of ya." The big brute said; Ahsoka said nothing – the tone in which he spoke confirmed her worst suspicions about her fate.

Without another word, he stuck his fingers in his in his mouth and let out a single sharp whistle; immediately, a human and a green Twi'lek female pushing a flat cart scuttled in – it was plain to see by their haggard, thin, and disheveled appearance, they were slaves.

"You: Take that floppy plonker out to the kitchen and have him chopped up to feed the Massifs – if any of the gits up there complain, tell 'em they're next, on _m y_ orders!" The Weequay yelled at the human.

"As for you: _Clean the mess up he left 'ere!_ " The Pirate then snarled at the Twi'lek.

Both slaves immediately sounded their assent to the order. They grabbed the dead Pirate by the hands and feet, swung him once, and tossed him onto the cart.

As the two worked, something drew Ahsoka's attention to the human – although the way he moved was guided by the jerky, hurried movements of one clearly used to living in fear, something subtly set him apart from the other slave. It took only a few moments to realize that – unlike the Twi'lek – somehow, inexplicably the human had a spring in his step.

Quietly, the big Pirate's words replayed themselves in the Togruta's mind: _I overheard talk that old Borrk here was on his way down here to see you_. Ahsoka maintained the illusion of still being distressed by her brush with the dead pirate, as she tried concentrate past her thick senses to study the human a bit closer.

He was roughly her age, but taller. Like the Twi'lek, he was lean, sporting cords of wiry muscle that were a mark of the life at hard labor he undoubtedly lived, crushed under the heel of the pirates. Unlike Anakin or Obi-Wan, his skin was naturally tinted a handsome tawny brown, though not quite as dark as Adi-Galia or Mace Windu; he also had a head of hair relatively short, and black.

Although the human male's face remained expressionless, Ahsoka still saw the faint depressions in his cheeks where the lighthearted dimples of one used to smiling would surely form if given half a chance. Ugly bruises marred his brown skin, and dried blood lightly stained his tunic.

The human finished shoving the dead Pirate's lifeless limbs onto the cart, where they would not drag the floor streak blood behind, and the Twi'lek began to use a mop she'd carried in to swab the floor where his fluids had begun to pool.

As the human began the exertion of pushing the cart, she caught a flash of his hazel brown eyes; " _GET A MOVE ON BEFORE I PLUG YA ONE_!" The angry Weequay snarled savagely at the two, startling them both and jarring Ahsoka's concentration – for a fleeting second, the human's eyes rose to meet her gaze, as if he were expecting to meet her gaze.

They twitched as the Pirate roared – it could have been nothing more than a nervous tick Ahsoka saw… Or, it could have been a reassuring wink in her direction. Somehow, in spite of the circumstances, Ahsoka couldn't escape the feeling that it was the latter – before she could search for any further sign of friendliness in his face, the human was forced to turn away as he began wheeling the cart hurriedly out of the prisoner bay, and was gone a moment later.

The Twi'lek was not long in following – she finished swabbing out the blood and set off behind him at a near run, flinching as she passed the Pirate, perhaps expecting to be hit. However, the Pirate turned to Ahsoka instead. "Right then… As you were." He growled at her sourly, before turning and following the two out the door, and leaving Ahsoka not quite as alone as before.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

 _WHACK!_

As a slave, he'd technically been forced into the task at hand by the Pirate now loafing around with a blaster propped against the table beside him; as usual, the pirate had delegated the unpleasant to Graykill, who––

 _WHACK!_

––Tried not to take to his new task with too much enthusiasm, for propriety's sake. It wouldn't do to make this pirate––

 _WHACK!_

––Or more importantly Brekk, suspicious. Thus, Graykill attempted to distract himself with more pleasant thoughts.

 _WHACK!_

It was the Togruta's excellent fortune that Graykill had spotted the Pirate on his way to the prison hold when he did; the human knew the Pirate's reputation among the slave women for sadism, and had automatically concluded what foul business the Pirate might be up to.

 _WHACK!_

It was just as well that Brekk happened to be nearby, because––

 _WHACK!_

––Graykill truly hated––

 _ **WHACK!**_

––To think of what would have happened to the poor, unfortunate Togruta otherwise.

 _WHACK!_

In truth, the human hadn't honestly expected the Pirate to have been dealt with that severely, that quickly.

 _WHACK!_

…But then again, Brekk always said that threats were empty and meaningless without examples being made to give them weight. For the first time in his life, Graykill had no objections to that philosophy.

 _WHACK!_

More importantly, the human was satisfied that the Togruta was now untouchable; no one would dare move to harm her again on Brekk's – and by extension, Graykill's – watch. She would be relatively safe for now, he was sure.

 _WHACK!_

It was as much as Graykill could hope for; although it wasn't he who pulled the trigger of the blaster, he could still take some satisfaction in knowing that his meddling had successfully spared the Togruta a terrible, terrible insult to the injury of what could still be a painful death.

 _WHACK!_

Now, Graykill simply needed to wait for the right conditions to develop, so he could enact the next part of his plan; he would concentrate on ways to refine it until then. He could only hope the Togruta was as stoutly built as she was obstinate; her survival depended on it – the gears in his mind continued to turn.

 _WHACK!_


	6. Chapter 6

"Oi! Wake up, squid-head!" A Weequay's harsh voice roused Ahsoka; inwardly she flinched, expecting a pummeling, but got none this time.

"Cap'n says I gotsa water ya. Says you'll last longer that way." The Pirate said with cruel amusement, as he held up a mug of water – Ahsoka said nothing; at this point, she was thirsty and hungry enough to let the comment slide without a witty remark.

However, as she bowed her head to put her lips to the glass, the Pirate upended the vessel so that it splashed up the Togruta's nose, and most of it was spilled across her chest; the Pirate laughed cruelly again. "Looks like you got a mouthful at least. 'Ent my fault ya spilled it. Just do me a favor and die quick now, eh? I got a lot riding on you having a shot run." He said with a grin and a wink.

Ahsoka didn't know what to do or say to such cruelty – the amount of water that filled her mouth had barely been enough to moisten her dreadfully parched, dry throat. However, the Pirate was gone by the time she'd processed his remark.

 _I'm going to die in here,_ Ahsoka thought. Unlike before, where she merely spiraled in distress, the true horror of the meaning behind the big Pirate's visit the day before finally settled in; he wasn't sparing her for decency's sake, but because he didn't want anyone to harm her.

…Where in the world did that leave the human, then? The question almost automatically sprang to Ahsoka's mind – it had ugly implications, but she instinctively rebelled against them.

Too mentally defeated and thirsty to even cry, Ahsoka sagged against her painful bonds, beginning to lose herself in the pain.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Graykill quietly skulked along the hallways, toward a 'security' checkpoint at one of the exits in the compound; the Pirates usually on Guard duty here were a chatty pair, which meant they were good for information – stopping just short of rounding a corner, the human fell silent to listen.

"––off to the planet where he found that orange scamp." One voice remarked.

"What for?" A second responded.

"Dunno, and don't care. He just said to be ready to go; we'll begin loading soon." The first responded, then paused. "You heard the new rule, 'entcha?" The Pirate asked, in a somewhat quieter voice.

" _What_ bloody new rule?" The second voice demanded flatly.

"Cap'n says any bets made on the girl go through him. Brekk's crackin' skulls now to make sure it flies… And word is, even _he's_ getting in on the action." The first voice responded, sourly.

"Sounds like they're trying to start another racket again. Those tight-fisted hob knockers'll do anything to squeeze whatever they can out of us… But I heard Qixx say he's gonna do a little betting on the side––" At this, the pirate's voice lowered, rendering his next sentences unintelligible to Graykill's ears.

The two pirates chuckled at some unheard joke or statement. "Still, ya think it's worth a shot at betting on the girl? Legit, I mean." One asked.

"Are you bloody kidding? Of course it is! Borrk go caught trying to get a taste of the girl, and Brekk blasted him. Cap'n Dorrekk said Borrk don't need any of his stuff no more, and tossed everything worth anything the stinkin' git owned into the pot to raise the stakes. There's enough in there now you'd have to be a complete fakkin' idiot not to buy in now." The other responded.

As the conversation drifted back to Borrk's would-be exploits and bawdy jokes about Lekku and handle-bars, Graykill's eyes narrowed and he stalked off, pondering how best to use this new information.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

A subtle ease drifted over the camp the next morning – the roar of sub-light engines signaled that the Captain had organized his raiding crew and set out on an expedition to ransack and pillage. This left only a skeleton cadre's worth of Pirates around camp, and without him being around to stick his nose in everything, pirates and slaves alike could breathe a little easier.

Even Brekk – still a Pirate at heart – relaxed his guard considerably, now that there were much fewer Pirates to keep watch over, began to indulge in his favorite vice: Drinking.

That night, after a round of thievery, Graykill stole out of the slave's quarters in the dark, determined to finally make a crucial next step in his tentative plan that had been long overdue.

The human's heart nearly stopped when he realized the sound of footfalls was not his own, as he wandered through the halls on the way to his destination – quickly, silently, he picked his pace up, hoping and praying that he wouldn't run into one of the few guards still wandering the halls this late at night.

Rounding a corner, the door Graykill sought loomed up in sight – his eyes immediately fell upon the access panel, and the keypad there for entry. Hurriedly, with shaking fingers and glancing over his shoulder, he keyed the entry code.

 _ **Access Denied.**_

Graykill's heart stopped. Had the code been changed? He keyed it again, more frantically.

 _ **Access Denied.**_

The footsteps clipped closer – of all the rotten luck, it sounded as though whoever was out walking this late at night had Graykill's same destination in mind… And there was more than one of them.

 _ **Access Denied.**_

 _Focus! Think!_ Graykill thought, turning to focus fully on the keypad, and seeing his badly trembling hand – _Stop, and remember: The code. Enter it._

In his terror, Graykill had momentarily forgotten he'd tried three different passwords on this door; moreover, his fingers were shaking so badly he mis-keyed the codes he _did_ enter.

Forcing himself to settle down and concentrate, Graykill entered the code.

 _ **Access Granted.**_

Cursing himself, Graykill silently ran across the darkened bay to a hiding spot, as the door seemed to hang open for an eternity.

 _Come on! Come on! Close already!_ He thought, willing the hydraulic door to shut itself.

Mercifully, with a tinny _whish_ , the door finally did shut… But had it shut quickly enough? Might his unknowing pursuers have seen the door shutting, and concluded correctly that someone else had entered the restricted area?

Silence and Darkness.

 _Silence and Darkness._ Graykill's pulse pounded in his ears.

An eternity later, the door to the room slid open again with the same whir; the human ducked behind the stack of old crates containing the various personal effects of the countless poor souls that had the misfortune of finding themselves in this room, out of sight.

"...wish she'd just die already." A Weequay pirate muttered lazily with disdainful amusement, tromping into the prisoner bay lazily with his companion and stopping before the Togruta; the words sent a surge of emotion through Graykill that formed into a tight lump in his throat.

Evidently they _had_ missed the door, but, heaven only knew what they might be here for at this time of night… And by himself, Graykill was powerless to stop any cruel or lascivious behavior.

" She's in bad shape. Won't be _too_ much longer, will it?" Another pirate muttered, and the two shared chuckles of dark amusement.

"You awake, girl?" One of them asked, raising his voice – the limp figure hanging in her shackles stirred only very slightly as the two pirates stood before her; she apparently had not yet fully roused to wakefulness, and that was her first crime.

"Oi! Wake up!" One of the two Weequay snapped, prodding the female in the stomach with the butt of his blaster rifle – the figure moaned, visibly taxed with the effort of raising her head.

"That's more like it. How much longer you gonna linger? I got a whole bloody Nova Crystal ridin' on how long it takes you to die, girl." The pirate drawled in amusement – Graykill's eyes narrowed to furious slits, and clenching his hands into fists… But remaining exactly where he was. He had no choice, despite the rage clutching his chest so hard it made it difficult to breathe.

There was silence; the suspense was too much, and Graykill took the incredible risk of peeking from behind his concealment – from behind the stacked plethora of crates, he spotted the prominently hued victim and the two Weequay holding her captive.

At first nothing was said; the Togruta merely stared, and Graykill sucked in his breath silently – though snide retorts and sour remarks were no longer within her capabilities, there still remained a disgusted smolder in the dying creature's brilliant sapphire eyes.

The Togruta spoke, but her ailing physical condition meant the words came out weak, and quiet; Graykill couldn't hear. Whatever her response, the two Weequay tossed their heads back and laughed a haughty, arrogant laugh – then one of them slapped her hard across the face, jarring her. Her grunting whimper brought a tear to Graykill's eyes and he clenched them shut again.

"You must be dumber than ya look, girl. The Cap'n's gone and Brekk's probably passed out drunk. Keep dreamin'." The second Weequay spat, in response to whatever response the girl had offered; Graykill exhaled tightly, forcing himself to remain calm.

"Yer lucky, lekku-head…" In spite of the fear that clutched Graykill's heart, the ominous tone of the pirate made it all but impossible to continue looking away, and an awful macabre curiosity pried his eyes open again.

"…That killin' ya ruins the bet, or I'd slash ya throat right here and now and let ya roll around on the deck, floppin' and gaspin' for breath." The Pirate teased.

The Weequay's response rallied Graykill's flagging spirits and courage – even in such sad shape, the prisoner had the courage and grit to insult her captors even in her hopeless condition; though it hurt to admit it, her defiance and unbreakable will embarrassed Graykill, who enjoyed relative peace through submission – his will to resist in such ways had long ago been suppressed.

The prisoner muttered something else this time, and again the two Weequay laughed – "That's more like it." One of the two captors sneered, and Graykill felt his heart break; evidently the mounting strain of captivity and brutality was evidently beginning to take more of a toll on her than she tried to let on.

"You want some water then, eh?" One asked, holding up a metal mug in his hand – the prisoner quietly perked up, but was hesitant.

The Togruta voiced a response, keeping her head bowed; the two Weequay chuckled sourly at the display, but rose the drink vessel to her lips, and the female prisoner eagerly dipped her head, raising her lips to the glass… Until the Weequay splashed some of the water over the prisoner instead, drawing a surprised laugh from the second.

The water dripped from the face of the prisoner, who sagged again in her bonds – again, a tear of frustrated sympathy trickled down Graykill's face, seeing the pronounced impact the mind game had on the prisoner's flagging will.

"Yeahhh, ain't so high and mighty now, are ya?" The first Weequay jeered, taking a drink from the mug in his hand. "Ya lucky I value my own skin more than I hate you, or I'd split ya bloody head open."

 _I never thought I'd say it in a million years but… Thank the heavens for Brekk's brutality,_ Graykill thought, realizing the fate of the other pirate was clearly scaring some semblance of restraint into these two.

The prisoner said nothing to this – she wasn't expected to.

"If you're so thirsty, you can have the rest of my drink – here. Come and get it." The first Pirate mocked, placing his tankard on a crate next to the prisoner; it was only a few feet away, but with the shackles holding her still, Graykill knew it might as well have been on a table somewhere on Dagary Minor, for all the good it did the poor Togruta.

The prisoner did not react to the wad of spit that landed on her face – she hung motionless.

A smolder of frustration welled up inside of Graykill as the Weequay joined his companion, and together the two tramped out of the hold, laughter echoing off the cold steel walls – it drowned out the whine of the door opening, and could still be heard for a second or two more as it slid shut behind them, sealing the hold again in darkness.

At first, Graykill's thoughts turned to his own predicament – he'd already had one extremely close call this night; all it would take was a surprise inspection of the slave quarters to realize he was missing.

Still, it took only one look at the prisoner – whose shoulders now bobbed and jerked to the rock of defeated sobbing – to brush any and all thoughts of himself from his mind; he began to silently edge forward.


	7. Chapter 7

_What about me?! I believed in you – I stood by you!_

 _I know you believe in me, Anakin… And I'm grateful for that. But this isn't about you – I can't stay here any longer… Not now._

 _The Jedi order is your life! You can't just… Throw it away like this! Ahsoka, you are making a mistake!_

 _Maybe, but I have to I have to sort this out on my own – without the Jedi Counsel… And without you._

The terrible memories mocked Ahsoka's reeling mind, tearing into the already fraying fabric of her mind – the real torture came from the mind; Ahsoka knew that the cruelty of her own thoughts could never be matched by any physical discomfort the Weequay slavers could inflict upon her.

 _You wanted to be alone, and now you are. You've done a fine job of standing on your own two feet,_ _Ahsoka Tano,_ The Togruta thought.

Cracking her blurry, watery eyes, she rose her head only just enough to spot the cup on the crate, just beyond what would normally be arm's reach.

 _Focus… Focus. You may not be able to escape, but..._ Ahsoka thought to herself.

The Togruta tried to banish the terrible feelings of extreme soreness in her muscles from hanging so long from the shackles, and the lingering pain from cruel blows in her cheek, ribs, and stomach from days before.

Again, Ahsoka tried to picture the cup in her mind – she tried to tear her thoughts away from her own thoughts and the tingling in her body, and focused them on the cup.

Ordinarily, the feat of willing the cup to her mouth would have been a trifle, even considering she never technically ascended past Padawan status – but with her scrambled mind unable to focus, she knew she stood as good a chance of spilling the cup by accident; it would be the final insult to her mental state that she couldn't bear.

 _Come on… Focus! Think! There… There is no emotion – there is… Justice? No, knowledge…?_

The Jedi Code – at one time, it had been the cornerstone, the central guiding light in Ahsoka's life… And now, it too was a terribly painful reminder of days long gone by; more frighteningly, she couldn't tell if the inability to focus on it was a sign of how severely her brain had been injured… Or how far she'd fallen from those once-sacred teachings.

 _What about me?_ Anakin's voice, so full of hurt and betrayal, pierced through Ahsoka's mind like a meteor; the imaginary statement echoed so loudly in her mind that her actual body flinched, and her already tenuous concentration shattered – the cup rattled on the table, probably falling over and spilling out its contents – and the Togruta wheezed a sharp sob, defeated.

The hard rim of the cup grazed her lips, startling Ahsoka.

"Easy… Easy." The voice was quiet and gentle – too startled to think and too surprised to drink, Ahsoka recoiled away from the presence before her, and the human standing before her obligingly pulled the cup away to keep her from bumping and spilling it as she did so.

"Easy! It's okay…" The human replied softly; at first, Ahsoka blinked in bewilderment – she had seen no one else enter when the pirates left, and hadn't been awake when he first arrived.

Ahsoka paused – it was the human from before, and he was here now, inexplicably. Any wariness of melted completely away when the Togruta's eyes locked with his a moment later.

She didn't need her higher powers to see the genuine concern for her within the human's hazel brown eyes – he seemed to be mesmerized by something; when Ahsoka guessed what it might be, she glanced away, clearing her throat self-consciously.

Carefully, almost timidly, the human bent his index finger, and used the knuckle to brush against her cheek… To wipe the wad of spit the pirate had left on her, away. _Or a tear…?_

Again, he raised the cup carefully – although it was room temperature, and there was precious little of it to fully sate her thirst, Ahsoka drank gratefully, choking on the first sip as the water eased her dry, cracked throat.

"Take it easy… That's it." Graykill encouraged. By the time she finished a precious few seconds later, the human glanced at the cup with obvious displeasure – he probably realized it would not have done much to sate her terrible thirst.

Ahsoka merely steadied her breathing, working her throat and wishing she had more to drink. "...Thhhhhank you." The Togruta rasped, letting gratitude bleed heavily into her tone.

The human's eyes widened in disbelief. "You… You can talk!" He mumbled to himself in wonder, as gaze left hers, sinking lower to her neck.; initially, the comment struck Ahsoka as odd.

"Whyyyyyy… Wouldnnnn't I…?" The Togruta slurred.

"…Because you're wearing a neural disrupting collar!" The human responded as if it were obvious, and dropping his gaze to her throat.

Neural disrupting collars were often employed as cheap methods of restraint on frontier worlds by law enforcement and by bounty hunters, slavers, and pirates, to temporarily reduce intelligent sentient captives to the mental capacity of a drunken infant or in some cases a vegetable.

Evidently, Ahsoka's mind – finely honed by her training as a Padawan – had resisted some of the collar's effects, resulting in the outward appearance that she had lost her Force sensitivity.

"That collar is turned up all the way. I didn't think a person could even have a rational thought with one on, let alone speak!" He breathed, in disbelief.

Relief of the highest degree flooded Ahsoka – _Oh, I_ _ha_ _ve_ _n't_ _lost_ _my_ _Force sensitivity_ _after all!_ _!_ She was alright! The relief was so powerful she began to sob again; tears of joy cascaded down her cheeks, taking the human momentarily aback.

"Wh… What…?" He mumbled. "W… Was it something I said?" He asked – technically, yes, it was, but Ahsoka realized saying so might give the human the wrong impression; thus, she merely shook her head.

"…I don't guess they've been feeding you." Graykill muttered rhetorically, seeing her sorry condition; Ahsoka's stomach rumbled – she nodded.

"Well… I suspected as much. Here, I brought you something to eat; can your species tolerate roasted Nuna?" The human asked; Ahsoka nodded.

"C-collar…" Ahsoka pleaded to the human, who paused, wincing in sympathy.

"I'd… I'd remove it if I could, but I can't." He responded. "These Pirates usually arm the collars with a self-destruct device. If I don't have the key-chip to remove it with, it will probably blow your entire neck off." He responded, gently brushing aside her Lekku to study it further.

Although the action of touching another species' Lekku without prompting was generally considered rude, in this case Ahsoka hardly cared – in fact it was highly probable the human had hardly seen many species of the like this far on the outer rim to begin with.

"––However," He said, twitching his hand slightly, "––I can dial down the strength of the disrupting field. There… How's that?" The human asked; the reduction of the collar's interference with her nerves was met with an immediate clearing of her altered mental state – it felt more and more like the haze cleared from Ahsoka's mind, until she felt nothing more than a light buzz. Evidently, the collar couldn't be completely deactivated.

"Mmph… Much better." Ahsoka mumbled; her voice cracked with relief – she retained her connection to the Force.

"Then here." The human said, "I brought something for you." The human producing a small bundle from his dirty and threadbare shirt that Ahsoka could only hope was food. However, the human paused as he unwrapped it, glancing at her.

"...Do you think the pirates would notice if we freed you from those shackles and put you in a cage where you can lay down, instead?" He asked, glancing at an empty cage with thick dura-steel bars nearby.

Although the muscles Ashoka's arms burned and cried out for mercy, she hesitated for several moments, building the courage to respond. "…I don't want to risk it. You've already risked too much already, and you'd draw too much suspicion." She declined, though she dearly wished she could rest her arms.

"They won't know it's me." The human replied, confidently. "Theoretically, us slaves don't even know any of the security codes around the base, so I doubt they'd ever suspect anything." He responded.

Ahsoka paused, as he approached. Hanging from the wall, Ahsoka paused – the temptation to give into the human's offer reared its head again.

A moment later, the human hesitantly, almost timidly approached, carefully taking her cheek in his hand, and bringing her eyes up to him. "Are you sure you don't want down from there? I… Hate to see you this way."

Again, Ahsoka glanced away, flushing blue – however, the terrible pain in her muscles had reached a crisis point, and not even her training to ignore pain was doing the Togruta good anymore. Evidently picking up on the fact that something was preventing her from accepting, the human turned away.

"...I'm going to get you down from there. Hold on." He decided on his own, turning away from her and seeking out a glowing, orange-screened control panel on the far side of the room.

After studying the panels for a moment and fiddling with the controls, he guessed at the series of buttons on the control panel; finally, with a metallic thud, the shackles around her raw wrists retreated into the wall, depositing Ahsoka onto the floor in a heap – she had not the strength to catch herself.

Immediately the human helped turn her onto her back; the Togruta's arms, sore to the point of utter useless from days of being held aloft, would not support their own weight let alone allow her to pick herself up.

Ahsoka let out a whining gasp of pain, baring her teeth and doing her best to cradle her noodle-like arms against her chest – even her legs felt like painful mush. The agony was tempered only by a faint sense of relief from the strain of the shackles, and a healthy dose of humiliation.

Shame and embarrassment filled Ahsoka at being in such pitiful condition; however, if the human seemed bothered by it in the least, he did not show it – again, he tenderly wiped her the tears of pain from her dirty face as soon as they appeared.

"Come on. Let's get you somewhere you can rest, and eat. All I was able to sneak away was a sandwich, but it'll hold you over until later. I'm sorry." The human said, half carrying, half-dragging Ahsoka to the cage where she could lay down, and at least try to rest her arms and legs.

When the pain was not so great as to prevent her from speaking through gritted teeth, Ahsoka, now propped up against the dura-steel bars of the cage, turned her eyes toward the human.

"You shouldn't be doing this. They'll kill you if they find out you're helping me." She protested weakly.

"Oh, come on… The only thing I 'shouldn't have done' is wait so long to come to you." The human dismissed, with a helpless grin.

The human unwrapped the bundle and produced the sandwich; Ahsoka tried to lift her arms – they were useless. Again, Ahsoka flushed blue; she had been a great commander in the clone wars, had held her own against Sith Lords in combat, freed whole planets from the iron thumb of occupation, destroyed countless enemies of the republic, and thwarted numerous plots and ploys by the Confederacy of Independent Systems… And now, she was too weak to feed herself.

"You know…" The human said, tactfully offering the sandwich up and pausing as the Togruta's sharp fangs easily sliced through the stale bread and tough meat, "...You make a terrible prisoner." He remarked.

Even cold, and made from the partially burnt trimmings that were normally cast off as scraps by the pirates to their animals, as the first food Ahsoka had to eat in days, it tasted absolutely delicious – she started to dismiss the odd comment, until he spoke again.

"...You aren't willing to give up like the rest of us, and you don't seem to scare easy. It's no wonder the Weequay hate you." He remarked, quietly; although she was starving, the Togruta slowed her chewing some as she pondered his observation – though she may be a Jedi no longer, Ahsoka knew she still retained the same fierce spark of vigor and obstinacy that years of being padawan to Anakin had instilled within her.

However, the painful memory of her master, almost certainly a victim of Chancellor Palpatine's insidious Order 66, stung her – she pushed it far away.

"Where planet are you from?" The human eventually asked; pretending to chew to buy herself some time, Ahsoka let her mind work.

"I was captured on Corva Yag." She responded – the answer was vague, but truthful.

"Okaaay… But that's not your homeworld, is it?" The human observed, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly.

"It's not?" Ahsoka asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.

"I may not know much about your species, but I know that there aren't any Togruta colonies on Corva Yag. In fact, now that I think about it, you're the first Togruta I've seen or heard of wandering this far on the outer rim since the clone wars."

Ahsoka swallowed, and it wasn't just because she was done with her bite of sandwich. The human studied her for a moment, the shrugged.

"...Forget I asked, I guess." He said with a bland shrug, offering her another bite of the sandwich; almost like a nervous tick, the human constantly glanced toward the door, nervously watching for any sign of approach – a strong sense of guilt began to fill Ahsoka.

"I… I have my reasons for keeping to myself – good ones." The Togruta mumbled, apologetically. The human pondered this for a moment, then shrugged, offering her another bite of sandwich.

"...It won't matter soon unless we can get you out of there. I'm not very concerned for myself – I've been a slave here for a while now; they keep me around because I'm good with a hydro-spanner and don't complain when they assign me work they don't feel like doing themselves…" He said; unfortunately, Ahsoka was nearing the end of her meager ration of food.

"...You on the other hand… Somebody's bound to notice you starting to get better instead of worse, and I don't know what they plan to do once they figure out you're not going to die on your own. Eventually they're going to figure something's up, and when that happens things could get ugly." The human said; in spite of Ahsoka's secretive evasion of his only question, a look of aggrieved pity crossed his face, and it was tough to see.

The Togruta's mind worked – her situation was slightly improved now thanks to the human's help. "...Do you think you can somehow maybe convince them to give me a chance at helping out? I'm good with my hands too." Ahsoka asked, giving silent thanks to all the countless hours she sometimes whiled away, learning the art of tinkering from Anakin.

"I wish I could, but… Well, you're… Marked for death." The human replied, visibly extremely agitated by the notion; a cold emptiness filled Ahsoka, and her head sagged against the cold bars of her cage.

Gingerly feeding the Togruta the last morsel of food, the human collected his things and beat a hasty retreat from the cage, hesitating as he drew the heavy dura-steel cage door shut and locking it behind him, sealing the Togruta inside. Still, he approached her side once again.

"I'll be back again as soon as I can, but I can't stay any longer tonight." The human replied, and Ahsoka paused, hoisting her head laboriously to look at him; she sighed shakily, realizing her death sentence was more or less official now – no ordinary human slave could do anything to save her from a mob of heavily armed pirates.

"...Don't worry about me." She tried to smile reassuringly, "I'm sure I'll figure something out on my own." A tear trickled trickled out of the Togruta's orange and white cheek, and the human's hazel eyes followed it down.

"...There's no point in you risking your life for me when it's not _you_ they want to kill. It's not your fault I'm in this predicament." Ahsoka mumbled; the human worked his hand through the bars and squeezed Ahsoka's useless hand – it trembled.

"I… I'm through being a slave; I can't handle the senseless abuse anymore. I've been trying to work out a plan for escape for awhile now and have been waiting for the right chance to spring it; an escape attempt will make me a marked man anyway, so neither of us have anything to lose anymore. I'm already working on trying to get you out of there." He said through a tight voice that made it difficult for Ahsoka to speak, again.

"I… I'm used to sacrificing for others – I don't want to slow you down." She replied, weakly; with the collar's intrusion greatly reduced, the gravity of the Togruta's helpless situation and poor lot in life only weighed more heavily on her now than ever before. She could finally sense she was nearing the end of her not-inconsiderable endurance.

"I saw the you stand up to these pirates even after they've mistreated you. Your fearlessness and courage are inspiring; you're part of the reason I finally want to try escaping." He replied, glancing again at the door.

"This isn't over 'til it's over, and it's not yet over. Don't give up. Never give up." The human implored, and then without another word, the human crept off, leaving Ahsoka to ponder his words in the dark, to the throbbing of her aching arms and legs.

Ahsoka's held as he reached the prisoner hold door… Then she relaxed slightly when she saw no Weequay stood guarding the door.

As the door shut behind the human, the Togruta was left alone with her thoughts. _Don't give up –_ _never give up_. It was a curious choice of words.

 _Where did he come from?_ She wondered; she had been too preoccupied with her own misery to have paid much attention, but he certainly had not arrived with the two Weequay that had come to harass her.

 _Never_ _give up._ The words echoed in her mind, along with the promise of food and water.

 _Technically, he's right… I'm not so bad off. I still have my connection to the Force – if I can get this collar off, then I may fully regain the use of my mind…_ The Togruta realized.

 _Never give up. Never give up. Never give up…_ Though it took great effort, Ahsoka once more pushed away doubt and fear, and began to repeat the mantra in her world-weary mind.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

One half of Graykill fully expected to get blasted in the guts by a furious pirate the moment he reached the first hallway intersection outside the prisoner hold, so that he would die a slow and painful death.

The other half of Graykill – the one comprised of blind optimism – clung rigidly to the prayers that his painstaking study of the pirates over the long months of his enslavement had been correct, complete, and thorough.

The extremely strong and unmistakable pungent odor of Weequayan liquor began to greet Graykill's nose across the base, relieving him considerably; as he had hoped, the Captain's departure from the base had resulted in a considerable relaxation of discipline – by now, even Brekk was probably beginning to nip the bottle himself, as well.

A healthy fear of what would happen to him if caught up past curfew remained, and thus Graykill continued to creep with all the skill and concentration he could muster; however, insanity struck as he approached a guard asleep right in the hallway back to the slave quarters least likely to be guarded very heavily.

Graykill's heart pounded; his eyes shifted to the half-empty jug of spirits tucked loosely in the crook of the pirate's arm – he was likely proper drunk, but, still… All it took was one errant footstep or even a stir on the part of the Guard to doom him for sure.

Swallowing deeply, Graykill crept forward.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Upon Graykill's return – finally – there was of course complete silence as he arrived in the darkness of the slave quarters.

Undoubtedly, a slave or two was probably still awake, if only to see what would happen to Graykill; however, none dared to stop or speak to him… And none of them would even think of doing so until at least morning, when roll was taken and public executions were normally performed.

In spite of that fear, the heady thrill of having finally made the first truly worthwhile move in this treacherous game of Dejarik eased Graykill's mind. Slightly.


	8. Chapter 8

Head bowed and serving tray piled high with picked clean bones and dirty plates held out before him, Graykill unobtrusively shuffled along the corridor heading back to what passed for a mess hall on the pirate base late the next morning – despite the previous night's intrepid skulduggery, he'd evidently not been caught after all.

Still, the slave steadied his pounding heart and slowed his pace down to a crawl and straining his ears for the voices of the two Weequay brothers on guard duty in this portion of the pirate base.

"Laarg says it wasn't him that moved that annoyin', smooth-skinned little Nuna to the cage from the shackles." He grunted.

"It warn't?" The second asked, suspiciously.

"Nope. But the stinkin' son of a space worm got pissed off his arse last night. He probably did it to make room for the new shipment and don't even remember." The first replied.

"Hurmph! So long's he ain't cheatin' by sneakin' her any grub, oi don't a wampa's hairy teat, 'cause Laarg bet the new Mobquet upgrade kit to his swoop bike that she'd last 6 rotations... And at the rate I've heard she's goin', she'll make us rich by the end of the week, and that's the only thing that matters." The second Weequay rumbled, evilly.

"Hmph. Fat chance. Damn the _eyes_ of the stinkin' piss artist what couldn't keep 'is mouth shut about this stinkin' bet in the first place; now that the Captain's taken over, even that bastard Kath hound of his, Brekk, got in on the bet. Between the two of them they stand to make a mountain'a credits and rob us all blind. It ent right, ya know – we's all s'posta been on the same bloody team, robbin' _other_ people of their credits!" The first protested angrily, to the enthusiastic agreement of the first.

The conversation was growing more and more heated; Graykill moved off quickly with his tray – he didn't want to be discovered eavesdropping… However, he was also almost overdue to check on the results of a very important science experiment.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

By the time the human returned to the mess hall, it had been half-vacated by the pirates; he hurriedly filed past a trio dozing heavily on the table, breaking for the kitchen door.

"Oi! Wake up ya filthy sacks of Gungan pus! You lot're next on perimeter guard!" Brekk roared powerfully, striding into the dining facility on a direct cross-course with Graykill, to his dread.

" _Get outta my way,_ ya rancid inbred Neimoidian larva!" The Weequay Quartermaster snarled, and being bodily elbowed past the human with such force as to send him flying, tray, bones and all, was the price Graykill paid for not vacating the his way quickly enough.

"Pick that mess up, or I'll feed ya to the Massifs!" He barked over his shoulder, and Graykill scrambled to do as ordered; he'd witnessed such a threat be carried out to the terrible misfortune of a hapless slave already once before.

Luckily though, the three sleeping Weequay diverted Brekk's ire as he hoisted one of them off his seat by the shoulders and shook him violently, yelling obscenities at him.

"Go kiss a Hutt's 'Little Hutt' and _lemme the bloody hell alone!_ _!_ " The malingerer snapped sleepily, furious at being woken up, and punctuating the statement with a drunken swing at Brekk's head.

Even Graykill's joined a chorus of audible gasps in the mess hall; the human's eyes widened in alarm and he disappeared under a table, realizing this was precisely the _wrong_ thing to say to the volatile Guard Captain.

Realizing that the mess would soon be forgotten in light of the forthcoming events, Graykill scrambled across the mess hall floor under tables and chairs for the door to the kitchen before sparks started to flying. However, the insolent Weequay was the first thing to fly, literally, across the room to slam into a table, splintering it and slathering the seated occupants with their own still half-eaten lunches.

Cries of outrage filled the room, boosting Graykill's crawling speed until he half-imagined being able to rival the speed of an Anacondan slithering for its life across an acid rain plain on Lotho Minor.

By the time he gained the door to the kitchen, the two sleepers had roused – partially. Mistaking the Guard Captain's actions for the beginning of a simple bar fight, the two groggily jumped to their feet and double-teamed him.

"Human-Graykill, what in the name of the Mother Jungle is going on out there!?" A terrified Ithorian and fellow slave demanded, as the situation in the mess hall degraded from involving flying Weequay, to flying blaster bolts.

"Three Pirates insulted the Guard Captain, Loorpo! Just stay away from the pickup window, keep down, and get ready ready to break out the mops. This could get messy." Graykill shrugged, helplessly.

A blaster bolt streaked through the pickup and serving window, scoring a black crater in the wall and missing the Ithorian's flat, hammer-shaped head by inches; he joined Graykill on the floor, craning his flat alien head so that it was nearly flush with the ground in terror. Babbling to himself fearfully in his native language, the Ithorian hurriedly shuffled off for the safety of the mop closet.

Graykill paused – wisdom screamed for him to join the Ithorian in the closet, where he would be missed, literally and figuratively.

However, the human slave prodded himself with the memory of the captive Togruta, and lingered long enough to feel around on one of the kitchen counter tops; his hand seized a plate with a thick cut of grilled meat upon it – in the commotion, no one would miss such a choice ration disappearing, among all the food that would soon be wasted on the battlefield-mess hall floor. Hurriedly, Graykill wrapped it up for later in a scrap of cloth, and hid it in a cabinet.

Lingering for just a moment, Graykill's own stomach rumbled; he searched around again and seized a fat loaf of Qrikki bread – and then cried out in terror as it was nearly blasted from his hand by an errant disruptor pistol bolt. The smoking crater in the counter top through which the ceiling was visible was sure sign the fight was escalating rapidly.

Soon, the ruckus out in the dining hall involved Weequay raiders from elsewhere on the Pirate base; the side-door to the kitchen slammed open and a line of four Weequay thundered past, not noticing Graykill huddled behind the counter.

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor and that not even the Togruta would likely remain in the rapidly brewing mosh pit of violent Weequay, Graykill scrambled for the door to the mop closet, tossing himself in with a leap as the door slammed shut behind him.

"What happened? Have you been perforated by blaster fire!?" Loorpa demanded worriedly, seeing the human curled up.

"It's getting ugly out there, Loorpa, but we should be safe in here for now… Unless they start using thermal detonators on each other – again." Graykill said shakily, uncurling from his ball and holding up the stolen loaf of Qrikki, and not his own guts.

"They'll bring the whole building down!" The Ithorian blurbled fearfully, in his watery voice.

"They're pirates. Do you think they care?" Graykill muttered, breaking the loaf in half and presenting one half to the trembling Ithorian.

"Here. Help me with this – they won't miss it, and they never feed us enough anyway." The human offered.

Although still nervous, the Ithorian reached out for the loaf, unable to deny the human's logic; together, the two ate the sweet confectionery in the dark.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"What happened out there? I thought I heard blaster fire earlier!" Ahsoka asked, the minute the human appeared, later that night. The flash of the human's teeth in the dark placed further kindling on the dim ember of hope that had begun to smolder again in the battered Togruta.

"I uh… Might have been 'field-testing' part of my escape plan in advance of the real thing." The human replied, grinning toothily. The Togruta's eyes widened immediately the moment the human produced the paper-wrapped slab of cooked meat from his shirt, and a flask of water. Unable to help herself, Ahsoka drooled at the most welcomed sight.

"Here, this is for you. Er– _now_ here." The human corrected himself, realizing the Togruta – clutching her incredibly sore arms to her chest – still needed help eating; he held it up and she tore a mouthful of meat off, chewing eagerly – the heavy meal would hopefully do wonders to help her recuperate.

A million questions poured through Ahsoka's mind, chief of which was what could the human have possibly done to have triggered such a reaction out of the pirates, and survive. However, sensing he was low on time, she ate quickly – he did not stop to allow her to conversation as he had the night before, and instead cleared his throat.

"That first trial run worked better than I expected, and my plan is coming together better than I could have hoped. I'll be back tomorrow again if I can, but if I can't, I truly apologize – I hope this will hold you over until then. I brought more water this time too. I––" The human's words were cut off by a ruckus outside the door, and both of them froze for just a moment.

"Hide!" The Togruta hissed fearfully past a fresh mouthful of meat, realizing the pirates would be in no mood to ask questions if they caught the human here with her.

The door hissed open a few moments later, and inward strode the same pair of Weequay that had been terrorizing her all week – they smiled in wicked approval at the wheezing gurgling sounds coming from the Togruta that culminated in a loud, rattling cough that shook her frame. She looked pale, swallowing and laboring unevenly for breath; clammy sweat glistened on her brow.

"She don't look so good." One of the Weequay muttered – unlike before, the lack of smugness in the Weequay's tone was unmistakable.

"You're causin' a lotta trouble 'round here, wench. You're lucky the boss won't let any of us touch ya until after you're dead, or I'd cut those pretty Lekku of yours off and make a toilet seat out of 'em right 'ere." The second remarked lazily, pausing between sentences to take a deep draw from a hand-rolled rankweed cigarette, and exhale the hallucinogenic blue smoke as he spoke.

The first shot a sideways glance at the second, rolling his eyes; Ahsoka's breathing steadied, but she did not move or attempt to crack wise as she had so many times before.

"That's a girl – keep sweatin' it out. You're doin' good." The first muttered darkly in amusement; the second, having reached the end of the cigarette, flicked it at Ahsoka.

The door opened and shut; for a long while, there was silence in the hold – then the human, breathlessly watching from the crevasse formed between a stack of crates, finally approached.

"…Wow, I didn't know you were such a actor – you had them and me both fooled!" The human remarked in amusement.

"I wasn't acting." Ahsoka responded dryly. "I was choking on my food."

The human blinked in bewilderment, exhaling shakily and rubbing his neck with a hand.

"It's not your fault. I just swallowed without chewing so they wouldn't see me eating something and get suspicious." The Togruta explained.

The human held out the meat again, watching the door constantly now as he did.

"...You should go. That was too close for comfort." Ahsoka said, though she dearly wanted more food and water.

"I will once you're finished." The human responded, comfortingly.

"Those Weequay weren't acting so high and mighty anymore. You didn't finish telling me what happened out there. What was this bet they're talking about?" Ahsoka said, before taking another smaller bite from the meat.

"When you teed off the Captain, he sentenced you to death." Graykill began.

"Originally they were just going to starve you to death slowly – they've done it before; they'll give you some food once every so often to string you along, and water. The trick is to see how far you go before you eventually realize they'll never free you or feed you properly again, so that you voluntarily starve yourself to death." Graykill explained.

"There's big money in gambling around here; it's the only thing any of these stupid jerks have got to do for fun this far on the outer rim besides pillaging. The last time there was a contest, a lot of money got involved in and it nearly caused the breakdown of order here." Graykill responded.

"I overheard them talking about a Media Center that you destroyed. You really spit in their eye by doing that, and it's why the Captain originally intended to have you starved to death; however, this time, bet was placed on how long it'd take you to die of dehydration instead, and now most of the pirates on this base are in on it." The human explained, pausing to give Ahsoka water.

"There's this Quartermaster named Brekk. He's incredibly brutal, even to his own subordinates; he has to be, because it's the only way anyone can enforce discipline among a band of lawless pirates, and while he may be the closest thing this miserable squat of a pirate haven has to the law, he's also got a stake in the bet on your head just the same now, too." The human explained.

"From what I gathered after the shootout you heard today, it turns out that the odds he gave you were really poor, and now he stands to lose everything he bet." Graykill continued.

"I didn't know this but the three that got into a fight with him all had much better chances of winning the pot… But, that's meaningless now because they and two others were killed in the fight, some of which Brekk killed personally. To the others, it's starting to look like he killed some of the likeliest candidates to win so that the bet will be a wash if all the people who win the bet are already dead by the time you die." The human explained, as Ahsoka did her best to eat as quickly as possible.

"The Pirate Leader is the one organizing the whole thing, so he gets a cut of the profits, and since they're dead now, he added their all their belongings to the pot to raise the stakes and his cut. But with the pot getting even bigger, any pirate that's got a shot at winning now thinks they've got a target painted backs by anybody who stands to lose. It wouldn't surprise me if there's a grain of truth to that theory, particularly if Brekk gets a cut of the loot from the Captain for his part in the 'peace-keeping'." The human explained.

Ahsoka listened in silence, hardly to keep from showing her building surprise.

"And you set all this up?" She asked.

"...Nnnnot quite…" The human shrugged helplessly.

"Not quite? Then what _did_ you do?" The Togruta demanded.

"Hide in a mop closet with an Ithorian for most of the fight." He admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

"Can you be serious for a minute? My–… _Our_ lives are on the line here!" Ahsoka protested.

"I _am_ being serious. I understand your fear, but this is a very fluid situation and I'm doing the best I can to see things along." The human responded, placatingly.

"How can I help then?" Ahsoka said, after she emptied the flask of water – it felt good to have some hydration in her again.

"Sit here. That's all you _can_ do in your condition." The human replied.

The response had been delivered as tactfully as possible; still, Ahsoka's eyes narrowed, and her skin warmed in agitation. She had never been one to sit and let others fight her battles for her and the idea of doing so now rankled.

"I can still help you. I'm good at making plans – really important ones with big risks and bigger payoffs." Ahsoka challenged.

"So are bank robbers… And come to think of it, they're equally secretive about themselves too." The human responded, taking Ahsoka fully aback with the comment.

"I am _not_ a bank robber!" Ahsoka protested immediately, until the human shushed her for blurting the response out loud.

"Relax; relax… I was kidding. If I truly believed you were some kind of scummy criminal, then I wouldn't have risked my life to come help you." The human responded, slipping his hand through the bars to put a hand on her shoulder.

Ahsoka did not brush it away – she chewed her dry, cracked lip for a moment. "Then why _are_ you here?" She finally asked, voicing the question she'd been dreading having to ask and yet feeling compelled to all along.

The human cleared his throat awkwardly; his skin, which was still pale by Togruta standards, flushed a slightly healthier shade of red.

"…I'd tell you, but I think you already figured it out." The human responded; Ahsoka nodded.

Graykill quickly screwed the lid of the flask back on, readying to leave; Ahsoka finished the last of her food a moment later – however, a lingering sideways glance from her stopped the human.

The Togruta's magnificent cerulean eyes were hardly dimmed in intensity by the lingering effects of the neural disrupting collar; their spell-binding depths shimmered like a blue star.

"I…" She trailed off. "…I'm Ashla. Pleased to meet you." The Togruta murmured.

The word cut through Graykill's momentary distraction like a bolt of lightning – he now finally had a word to address the beautiful creature by, and only then did he realize they'd never even introduced themselves to each other.

The human cleared his throat. "My name's Graykill – don't give up, Ashla."

With that, he quietly stole out of the prison bay, leaving the Togruta alone with her thoughts.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** This chapter was just now replaced. I messed around accidentally uploaded a draft version of this chapter instead of the real thing; the only change is minor - the redundant conversation was removed. Sincere apologies for the mix-up.

* * *

The smoke and smell of burning plasticrete and sentient flesh filled Dorrekk's nostrils; somewhere up the street a family trapped in a burning home screamed for mercy. "We get everyone?" The Pirate growled to one of his crewman.

The pirate rifled through the pockets of a corpse at his feet. Tossing up what might have been a wedding band, and then catching it in his clenched first, he stood and grinned a toothy and malicious smile. "Aye, Captain. All them what ain't dead's gonna be reaaaal soon" He replied.

Dorrekk scowled around the remains of the tiny hamlet once more; something nagged at him – having spent years as a Pirate, he'd developed a keen sense for smelling a profit… And he had the distinct feeling he was leaving a _lot_ of money behind somewhere.

Briefly, the idea visited him to order the Pirates to toss the place again; however, the Captain decided against this idea almost immediately – if the other stinking cargo hold vermin got wind that something potentially very valuable was left here and found it, they'd undoubtedly try to hide it for themselves.

Glancing at the burning house, Dorrekk's eyes narrowed.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

The human dragged forth from the burning house sobbed uncontrollably – her relatives remained trapped inside, pleading for salvation.

"Oi, lass." Captain Dorrekk said almost conversationally, pointedly ignoring their plight and hooking his thumbs through his belt. "A few days ago we spilled this place, and found an alien here. What do you know about her?" He asked.

"M-my f-family, please!" The human begged.

"––Are gonna be proper crisped by the time ya tell me what I wanna know." The Pirate responded, lazily.

"I don't know – she was only here maybe half a day before that; hardly any of us ever even spoke to her. She had taken in momentarily with Gertie at the bar fixing things – as far as I'm aware, she never left the place for anything in the entire time she was here!" The woman said, not even hesitating.

"I told you everything I know, now please! _The fire's getting out of control!_ " She screeched, desperate.

Dorrekk glanced up, nodding, and saw this was indeed the case; buildings – even those made out of fire-retardant plasticrete – when purposefully slathered in starship fuel, _did_ in fact have a rather amusing tendency of burning uncontrollably.

"You're right. And if Captain Dorrekk understands one thing, it's family. Wouldn't want to split up a family now, would we?" He responded, as the screams inside turned manic now that the flames finally began eating at flesh.

Without another word, he grabbed the human by the neck – she screamed and struggled, belatedly realizing what was coming next; however, her strength was no match for the brutish Weequay Pirate, and so she was thrown bodily onto the runaway inferno.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

 _Blasted humans; they stink terribly when they burn. Bloody vermin..._ Dorrekk thought to himself as he slowly picked through the remains of Gertie's cantina-house. Broken glass crunched underfoot with each heavy boot step; the place had been tossed already and everything of any outward value had already been looted by his men.

The ruins of the broken Media Array that had once been his mocked the Pirate, so that Dorrekk gritted his teeth in disgust; the blood stains from the lone Weequay Pirate that had been killed in the unexplained explosion that destroyed the living room still marred the carpet. However, as prepared to depart, a subtle shadow behind the bar caught the Weequay's eye, where the unconscious Togruta had been found originally.

Dorrekk approached, scowling to himself; scum of the sort that lived in this town wouldn't have booby-trapped whatever it was – the only reason his men would have left it alone was if was nothing of any value. Dorrekk's hand closed around the straps of a knapsack-like pack – a travel bag, of precisely the sort an damnable nuisance of an alien girl might bring with her to a foreign settlement.

To his untrained eyes, the useless scrap within was exactly the opposite of Dorrekk had hoped for – miscellaneous junk, machine parts, components, and a meager set of low quality tools. If there were any blasters, money, identifying documents of any kind, or even any halfway interesting personal knick-knacks the others would have surely taken them by now – he scooped everything back into the bag, and returned to the ship, giving the signal to set light to all the other houses.

As the loading ramp to the ship rose and he spotted the house where the ruined Media Array now burned along with everything else, Dorrekk grew agitated. Perhaps the components might be useful in fixing something back at base, Dorrekk thought; after all, the dive was forever in need of repair. Or, perhaps he was still sore at the loss of the media array; perhaps he was making a fool of himself trying to assign value to junk not even his own crewmen wanted, in its absence.

Cursing, the volatile Captain threw the bag into a dark corner of the hold in disgust. Perhaps he'd forget the blasted thing ever existed in the first place; the bag faded from his mind as he stormed up to the ship's cabin and his Captain's Chair, barking orders at subordinates as he went.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"Oi! You miserable lot are next on guard. _Pick yer feet up!_ " Brekk snapped at a trio of Weequay sitting at the dinner table – all of them looked drunk, and all of them remained seated for a moment, glaring hatefully at the Quartermaster.

The silence that followed the order seemed deafening and interminable to Graykill, who traded very nervous glances with Loorpa – it was the most overt display of maligering from the crew either had seen yet, and reflected the increase in tensions within the Pirate compound.

"C'mmmoonnn lads." One of the Weequay finally slurred, hiccuping and swaying to his feet. "We don't want there ta be anymore hard-to-explain 'accidents' now, would we, _ssssir_?" He said, letting sarcasm and contempt drip from the backhanded reference to Brekk, whose eyes went wild with fury; his hand gripped the disruptor pistol at his hip… And clenched.

"Go on! Get out of me bloody sight!" Brekk threatened savagely, poised to draw the blaster. However, the wary Quartermaster took in the full scene within the mess hall – the looks of mistrust, resentment, and nervousness were no longer confined to just the three latest victims of his harsh brand of discipline. Every one of the few other off-duty Pirates in the room all leaned heavily on the walls or their weapons, staring at Brekk.

The Quartermaster glanced at the kitchen once absently – both had their backs turned and were almost frantically wiping down the kitchen with rags and mops, completely ignorant of the unfolding drama; the three pirates on Guard detail sulked hesitantly out of the kitchen. Quietly, conversation resumed, though it was in hushed and guarded tones; the tension in the mess hall decreased only slightly.

Striding out of the kitchen, Brekk allowed himself to swallow once in nervousness the moment he was alone – as always, he'd been entrusted by Captain Dorrekk to keep order in his absence… However, the tensions caused by the bet on the Togruta were driving a wedge between everyone.

Any breakdown of order in Dorrekk's absence would reflect very poorly on Brekk, with possibly fatal consequences – as things stood, the mini-massacre the day before was already going to be uncomfortably difficult to explain.

Privately, Brekk harbored fantasies about going and simply strangling the Togruta to death before things got any further out of hand – however, the window of opportunity for such an act was long passed. To lay a finger on her now would unite the dissident crew members under one banner: the banner of mutiny, or perhaps killing him instead.

Cursing under his breath, the stress instilled the incredible desire a stiff drink in Brekk. However, to appear drunk before the crew after nearly having started another fight with the three he'd just railed would only reflect even more negatively on him. Perhaps maybe _one_ drink might not hurt, though.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Ahsoka spent the entire day forcibly willing her arms and legs to limber up through mild exercise and stretching – the physical pain of working the muscle soreness out of her arms had brought tears to her eyes more often than she could count, but the Togruta vowed not to let such tribulations stop her, for this time, when – if – the human arrived, the Togruta would force herself to eat on her own accord; her dignity would have it no other way.

Between prying her screaming arms straight and working her cramping, aching leg muscles, Ahsoka's mind replayed the conversations she'd had with the human since he'd began making his clandestine visits.

 _I'd tell you, but I think you already figured it out_. The Togruta closed her eyes, taking a break from the torture-exercise to reflect – it was much easier with the neural disruptor dialed down to its lowest power level; she'd even regained an extremely limited command of the Force.

An uncharacteristic fear for the human's safety had developed so quietly that Ahsoka did not realize she was worrying over him until she caught herself almost wishing he'd stay away – if he didn't come to visit her, his risk of getting caught would be much less; he Togruta couldn't bear the idea of him coming to harm on her behalf.

However, other things worked their way through her mind too – each sentence of his was weighed carefully and considered in the same way she'd grown used to doing when meditating to unravel the mysteries of the Force; each word, every inflection, his body language…

Ahsoka's montrals twitched – her eyes opened, and she fell to the floor of the cage in a heap; if the visitor was not friendly, she wouldn't have to expend much effort to look thoroughly wretched, thanks to her quivering, trembling, twitching muscles.

Graykill's eyes widened nervously as he approached, horrified at her condition – however, Ahsoka set him at ease by sitting up on her own, and giving him a tired smile.

"You're the reason I'm being starved." Ahsoka declared confidently, freezing Graykill in his tracks.

The agitated twitch of his stiff muscles, his frozen breath, and the way he clenched the bundle in his hands tightly confirmed the Togruta's guess almost immediately.

"I… Don't know what you're talking about." Graykill responded, nervously.

"Oh?" Ahsoka asked, not approaching the bars to the cage; Graykill remained rooted in place.

"It came to me: That's the reason why that Pirate was shot. That's the reason none of them have been beating me, or abusing me." Ahsoka said, soberly. "It's an incredibly risky plan. What would you have done had it backfired?" She asked.

Graykill's brown face paled slightly, and he began to sweat. "I-I'm sorry, i-it was the only thing I knew t-to do…" He mumbled, profusely apologetic – however, Ahsoka's tired grin only spread a little wider.

"I'll forgive you if you let me have some of that sandwich." She responded in amusement; Graykill lamely thrust it at her, clearly on the verge of fleeing the hold.

"…Come here." Ahsoka said, stiffly setting the sandwich down on the floor of the cage; the human seemed ashamed to even meet her gaze.

It was to his surprise when Ahsoka quietly wrapped her thin arms around him through the bars, and squeezed – Graykill blinked. She seemed much stronger than he'd assumed someone her size could be; perhaps it was a byproduct of being a Togruta.

Hesitantly, he rested a hand on her back, just below the Lekku sprouting from the back of her head; the hug seemed to last forever – and yet at the same time seemed over in an instant.

"I… Don't know how I can ever repay you. In spite of what _could' ve_ happened, you _did_ save me from… Well, it wouldn't have been pleasant." The Togruta admitted.

Graykill's eyelids fluttered slightly. "I… Didn't know how you'd react. But I was desperate. I though maybe if everything worked out then it wouldn't matter in the end." He said, releasing her – reluctantly – so that she could begin eating hurriedly.

"How are your arms? I'm surprised to see they're already better…" He remarked in plain disbelief; the Togruta stiffly worked them once.

"I… Used to be in athletics… I'm accustomed to dealing with some soreness, though maybe not to this level." Ahsoka said, habitually neglecting to mention anything about the grueling lifetime of training one needed in order to be able to swing the incredibly heavy hilt of even an ordinary lightsaber around in combat.

"One thing I haven't been able to figure out is what you had to do with the fight. What did you mean by 'field-testing' part of your escape plan?" Ahsoka asked, before stuffing her mouth with food.

Graykill smiled slightly, clearing his throat. "Obviously, our bodies are all very different from each other at the biological level. I found out by accident one morning sometime ago that Weequay bodies react differently to the cleaning chemicals we use around here a lot differently than, say, a human would." The human replied. "…We'd… Well, we'd die." He muttered under his breath.

"Anyway, if a slave working the kitchens happens to 'accidentally' spill a few drops of some of those cleaners – just a little – into those Weequay Pirates' morning meals before you cook them, the end result is a temporary sedative effect that's virtually indistinguishable from a really bad hangover." Graykill responded.

Ahsoka's full cheeks tightened into a grin as she chewed.

"Ehem… They just happened to start a fight with the wrong person in their stupor. I hadn't counted on that, but, like I said, it's still working to our advantage. Sort of." Graykill responded.

Ahsoka finished her meal, again wishing she'd had more, but being thankful for what she received anyway; she emptied the flask of water he'd brought again, before speaking.

Graykill opened his mouth to speak, but a sudden burst of insight struck the Togruta. "…I don't suppose you know what the Pirates did with everything they stole the day I was captured, do you?" She asked; the human frowned.

"They probably split most of the consumable goods amongst themselves and tossed the rest into storage like they always do." Graykill responded. "They keep it there until they can fly to a larger spaceport and fence the cargo there."

Ahsoka leaned somewhat heavily on the cage bars. "…Is there something in it specifically you're looking for?" The human asked.

"Yes. Some things that are personal to me." Ahsoka responded, quietly.

"Personal?" Graykill asked, skeptically. "…I'm sure whatever it is you're after might be very important to you, but, they're material possessions, and we need to think about survival here first. I don't mean to be rude or offensive, but unless they're life-threateningly important, let go of them. If they aren't in the personal possession of one of the pirates, they're probably locked away somewhere." The human said.

However, Ahsoka shook her head. "They're not just trinkets – they're weapons. Powerful ones." She said, clearing her throat; the vague declaration sent waves of anxiety through the Togruta – it was hazardously close to revealing the true nature of her lightsabers… However, Graykill only let out a distracted sigh, stroking his chin.

"Well, weapons could be useful, but… Anything like that would have been locked away in the armory, and nobody but Quartermaster Brekk or Captain Dorrekk are allowed without good reason. I'd never be able to get in there, let _alone_ sneak them out, and even if I did, there must be close to 30 pirates here. The two of us would never stand a chance against _all_ of them them." Graykill responded.

However, in spite of the bleak response, Ahsoka grinned – dirty, tired, bruised, and haggard as she was, the expression struck Graykill profoundly. She was truly beautiful when she smiled – the Togruta cleared her throat pointedly, drawing the human's head back out of the clouds; his cheeks flushed with heat, and it only served to widen her grin a little more.

"…I disguised them well – they were made out of salvaged parts and old scrap metal to begin with, so they don't look like anything but junk. " Ahsoka replied.

"…Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but I was present when you first arrived, and you didn't have anything on you. I guess could try and find them I guess by digging around, but, if they're as well-hidden as you say, then I wouldn't even know what I'm looking for if I saw it, assuming it wasn't just tossed in the incinerators by now." Graykill responded.

Ahsoka was absolutely positive they had not been incinerated – if they had, the power cells in each would have failed catastrophically… And just one exploding would have enough destructive force to completely atomize the entire base, everything in it, and a sizable chunk of the planet to boot.

Unfortunately though, the point about not recognizing them if he saw them was still wholly valid, and in spite of everything the human had done so far, Ahsoka's better judgment practically screamed at her to keep her mouth shut about her past. Thus, she was forced to concede the point.

"Well… If you don't think it's worthwhile to pursue that idea, then could I convince you to maybe look for a way to get this collar off me?" Ahsoka asked.

With the neural disruptor off, her fully command of the Force would be available to her; even without her lightsabers, she'd still be a tremendous force to be reckoned with. More importantly, she would once again be able to meditate; if the lightsabers – or more the point, the living, force-imbued Kaiburr crystals within them – were within range of her senses, Ahsoka would be able to find them herself.

"Well, I guess I always knew I was bound to have to find a way to get it off sooner or later." Graykill remarked, trying to remain upbeat; even so, Ahsoka's heart clenched reflexively as she realized what incredible risk he'd probably have to expose himself to in order to save her.

"…Do you… Do you think you can manage it…?" She asked, rhetorically – a tremble visited her voice, and Graykill leaned forward, resting his head on the bars of her cage. "I've got to try. For you." He responded; the vibrations of his voice hummed within her montrals – it sent an involuntary tingle down Ahsoka's spine.

The human wormed his arm through the bars of the cage – without prompting, Ahsoka willingly succumbed to the desire to leaned against the bars and do so as well; her mind went blank, and this time the collar had nothing to do with it. The human's arm wrapped around her back, rubbing her back in gentle reassurance; Ahsoka closed her eyes.

Briefly, the thought of Lux passed through Ahsoka's mind – however, Lux might have been halfway across the galaxy away from her, and more to the point, she had not had the opportunity or the desire to maintain any meaningful level of contact with him since their last meeting. He was a relic from a lifetime ago – back when she was still a Jedi, but things weren't quite so bad then.

Even in such grim circumstances, it felt _so_ good to finally have someone care for her well-being again… And perhaps for maybe the second time ever, care for something a little more than that.

Sadly, the human withdrew his arm a moment later, drawing Ahsoka from her temporary reverie; reluctantly, she did so too, and the moment was over – the Togruta tried to ignore the fact that she might grow to miss it more than the food the human brought.

"I'll get you out of there Ashla, I promise." Graykill replied, using the phony alias she'd given him; the lie stung Ahsoka inwardly, and she clenched her teeth; she nodded, and it was with great reluctance that the human crept off.

As the door slid shut, a tear slid from her eye. Was it really right to lie to the human after risking so much for her? Would he still be willing to risk his life for her if he knew that the few moments they could steal for themselves in the hold of this miserable pirate hideout would only a hint of the life of secrecy they'd have to live while under the crushing heel of Imperial rule?

…That was of course assuming they would in fact live. Together.

 _I'm… I'm getting ahead of myself; Jedi have no such attachments –_ Ahsoka began to think after a moment, but stopped. Padawan and Field Commander Ahsoka Tano had been perhaps the very first victim of Palpatine's plot to enslave the galaxy… And now all that was left was a solitary Togruta – a lone wanderer.

She wasn't a Jedi any longer.


	10. Chapter 10

It was while cleaning the trash bins around the crew's quarters the next morning that devious inspiration struck once again.

Upending a bag of garbage, something caught Graykill's eye – it was a piece of a cheap and therefore broken pocket knife with three extremely crude but still letters letters written in Aurebesh carved into the grip panel. Graykill's pulse jumped – he recognized the letters, and knew what they signified.

He glanced around at the other pirates once surreptitiously – all were either asleep, gone, or occupied with a chance cube game. Next, he glanced around at the other two other slaves busy helping clean – they were preoccupied with their duties.

With the nimble fingers of one used to pilfering food unnoticed, Graykill quietly tore a scrap of cloth off of a discarded jerkin and used it to grab the piece of knife, which was quickly and carefully wrapped in it.

The small bundle disappeared into Graykill's shirt in one quick and fluid motion that looked no different outwardly to any possible observers than him trying to scrape off the drying stains of some chewing weed that had spilled on his shirt while emptying another trash can.

Without missing a beat, the human hurriedly resumed mopping to make up for lost time, hoping that his progress would not be judged to have fallen too far behind.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Ahsoka glanced up as the door opened, expecting to see the two Weequay Pirates that had made it a habit of teasing her at roughly this time of day every day. She was shocked to see the human creep in at full speed instead, far, _far_ , earlier in the day than he usually came.

One of his eyes were ugly and black and had completely swollen shut, where some cruel soul had given him a black eye, undoubtedly as the result of one of his activities her behalf; Ahsoka felt an unconscious spark of anger and hate bloom within her – coupled with the pain of her captivity, it was becoming an altogether more common occurrence than she would have liked to admit.

The human's other burned with nervous fear, and it instantly set the Togruta's heart to hammering, as he quickly stole up to the cage.

"Listen: I don't have much time, so eat while I talk!" He whispered frantically, cutting her off before she could speak, and extracting another large bundle of food and water from his shirt that he hurriedly handed it to her – one item he withheld from the meal pack, which seemed to be an ordinary cookie.

"I've finally begun hearing gripes that you're not dead yet, and the first guessers that you should be have already begun losing their bets." He said, as Ahsoka quickly gobbled as much of the delivery as she could down.

"Needless to say, they're pissed. After today, things are going to get extremely risky – I may or may not be able to come see you anymore, but I'll do my best to pick up the pace on my end to get you out of there – I promise." He said, quietly.

"I apologize in advance if they get rough with you, but I've got to throw them off my trail before they get suspicious. Come here, quickly." He ordered, as she finished just a moment later.

Graykill's face fell considerably as their eyes met, and he spared just one moment to regard her with plain, heartfelt fancy – his eyes roamed over her features, as he crushed the cookie up in his fist.

"Hey – what in the galaxy are you doing?!" Ahsoka demanded in consternation as then Graykill mashed the crumbs into her face and chin; the cast-offs fell to the cage floor.

"Whatever you do, don't rub any of it off. It has to be found!" He said, already running for the door.

 _Found?_ Ahsoka repeated mentally, silently mouthing the word in utter disbelief. … _But that would mean––_ She thought, eyes widening in surprise.

As Graykill quietly padded out the opening door, the Togruta's sensitive montrals registered the faint ring of something tiny and metal hitting the metal floor.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

The two pirates that had come for their daily would be here within moments – the breath of time he'd spent foolishly admiring the Togruta's features might be the setback that would get him caught, and Graykill silently berated himself spiritedly as he broke for the door.

Extracting the bundle of cloth from his shirt, the human opened it and dropped the knife fragment on the floor without breaking stride – he could hear voices.

 _Crap!_ Graykill thought – they were coming down the same hallway he had intended on using as his escape route back to the kitchens; there were no other direct routes he could take that wouldn't arouse suspicion. Mind racing, he decided it was time to take another gamble.

The two Weequay rounded the corner, conversing about the lewd things they planned to do with the concubines kept around for the purpose – Graykill unconsciously huddled even further behind the support strut in a wall near the entrance to the prison bay opposite the hall the pirates' voices echoed from, willing himself to become so thin as to be a layer of paint.

The two pirates turned the corner to the prison bay, and there was just a brief pause in the two's conversation – then it continued unabated as they reached the door to the Prison hold. The hiss of it opening masked Graykill's silent flit across the corridor, and his terrified and silent sprint for the kitchens.

As the human ran, Graykill silently thanked the irony of his malnutrition being the reason his gaunt figure managed to fit behind the support strut.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

The two pirates' conversation stopped abruptly when they turned and noticed Ahsoka huddled in the far corner of the cage – their gazes fell to the crumbs at the cage floor, and the few left on her face; in spite of herself, she couldn't resist the desire to eat a few of the largest ones.

"Wait a tick!" One of them snarled, immediately drawing his blaster. "Where the bloody fack did ya get that food from!?" One of the two pirates demanded, furiously.

"…I don't know, Sarlacc breath. I don't make it a habit of learning the names of you pirate scum." Ahsoka spat, praying she was playing her part well.

"Why you filthy––" The Pirate snarled, tensing his trigger finger.

 _ **BLAM!**_

The bolt fried a black mark in the floor of the cage just a few inches from Ahsoka's feet, making the Togruta jump at the closeness of the legitimately unexpected blaster bolt.

" _No_ , ya bloody knob!" The other pirate snarled, removing his hand from the blaster – he'd intentionally batted the blaster away at the last moment.

"What the fack ya do that for?" The pirate with the blaster demanded, lividly.

"Because I know who fed the bloody munter!" The other replied, equally irritated.

"Who!?" The armed pirate demanded, aiming the blaster right at Ahsoka – in spite of all of her times facing blaster bolts in the field of battle before, the muzzle opening of this particular blaster looked like the opening to a concrete drain culvert to the unarmed, hobbled, and therefore essentially helpless Togruta.

"Who!?" The pirate demanded – the blaster waivered for just a moment.

"Use ya bloody head, ya stinkin' piss-artist. C'mere!" The first demanded, storming off in the direction of the door.

He returned a moment later with an innocent fragment of what looked like a knife – the thing Ahsoka had hear dropped earlier. "Qek, Jinth, Mern – those are Qmteq's initials!" The first Pirate declared angrily, shaking the incriminating 'evidence' in his fist angrily.

"So what do we do with her lot then!? She's bloody eaten something, so the bet's off!" The second snarled, finger still tense on the trigger and poised to blast a hole in her head.

"The hell it is, ya clumsy bastard – if you kill her, Brekk will kill _us!_ We gotta go tell'm what happened, or they'll accuse us of killin' her before her due!" The first responded, growing somewhat nervous.

The threat of violence from Brekk made the Pirate's blaster sway – very reluctantly, he lowered the blaster.

"What else have you got in there, girl!?" The first demanded – Ahsoka hesitantly revealed her hands – nothing at all.

With a wordless sneer, the two turned and stormed out of the hold immediately. A wide grin cracked the Togruta's features.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"It wasn't me, Am-Shak damn you! It was Ossrekk!" The strangled cry pierced the air.

An indignant roar of anger came from Ossrekk, who – in spite of being forced to kneel beside Qmteq, both with their hands bound behind them – pulled away from his captor long enough to headbutt his fellow victim.

"It wasn't me neither!" Ossrekk protested vehemently, once the two struggling pirates had been dragged apart forcefully and made to kneel before Brekk.

"The two of you are bloody well up to summat!" The Quartermaster spat.

"I ent done nuthin'! Prove I didn't!" One of the two pirates challenged with white-hot righteous indignation.

Seemingly waiting for the proclamation, Brekk producing the knife fragment as if on cue. "Then explain this!" He challenged, grinning evilly – the two froze and their breath caught in their throats.

"I bloody well threw that away!" Qmteq cried, once he finally regained the ability to speak. "Ossrekk must'a taken it! Why else would the bloody thing stink like him!?" He cried.

From his vantage point, Graykill resisted the urge to snigger audibly – Graykill's own gamble had been correct: the second accused Pirate had also bet woefully long on the Togruta's life expectancy; both of them would have benefit from her continued survival.

"It ent mine! If ya gotta kill anyone, kill _'im_! He's the one that it belonged to!" Ossrekk protested hotly, beginning to squirm against his captors with renewed vigor and now genuine distress.

"Maybe one of the slaves did it!" Qmteq cried, making Graykill fall still – now came the most crucial part. "If I threw the bloody thing away, one of them could'a found it in the trash! The cleanin' crew was all humans!" He argued.

"If that were true," Brekk said, raising the knife fragment to his nose and snorting a deep, boogery snort for emphasis, "–Then the bloody thing would reek of _human_ instead of _you_ , Oss. And it's not got any bloody soft-skin marks anywhere on it. You both _know_ the miserable disgusting vermin leave 'em everywhere!" Brekk challenged, referring to fingerprints – a hallmark sign of human activity.

A wide grin cracked Graykill's features. His calculated risk to grasp and wrap the knife in the scrap of cloth from the jerkin had paid off in spades – he'd not left any incriminating evidence on the knife, and the cloth itself had already been dumped down the incinerator and burnt, along with the trash it had come from. What little evidence there might've been had been swiftly forgotten in the heat of the sham-trial.

"I dunno how, but one of them slaves must'a had summata do with it!" Ossrekk cried, desperate for a way out. "It was the humans! Sniff the humans for the scent!"

Brekk's face wrinkled in disgust.

"I'm not sniffing the filthy creatures! _You_ sniff 'em!" He ordered to a bystander. " _ **I**_ ent sniffin' 'em neither! You sniff 'em yourself! I'll blast the disgusting buggers before I do!" He shouted.

"Kill 'em both!"  
"Kill 'em _slow_!"

"Flay 'em alive!"  
"Oh soddit, let _me_ bloody kill 'em 'en if you won't!"

"Blast the bleedin' wankers!"

Furious jeers and catcalls from the pirates whose odds would have been negatively affected by Ahsoka's prolonged survival were out for blood – the blood of their two former compatriots; helpessly, they looked around.

"Take 'em outside! We'll bloody feed 'em _living_ to the Massifs!" Brekk declared, furiously.

"Oi! But what about the lass!?" Someone demanded, interrupting the lynching – Graykill silently cursed, having dreaded this moment. Now there was no telling which direction things would proceed.

"She's eaten something! I say we beat it out of 'er!" One of the pirates protested; it was met with loud and raucous cheers of approval from all of the pirates who stood to win should she die soonest.

"Like bloody hell we should! There's already been cheating enough; if you punch the stuffing out of her and she dies, I won't pay up a _bloody womp rat_ _turd_ – you lot will have killed her into dyin' quicker!" A hot protest from across the proverbial aisle came back almost immediately.

The motley collection of pirates immediately began to argue savagely amongst each other, and more than a few hands clutched around weapons now.

 _ **BLAM!**_

"QUIET!" Brekk thundered savagely, silencing the entire group of pirates altogether; debris quietly falling from the ceiling where he'd fired his disruptor pistol bolt was the only noise audible for a single moment.

"Nobody lays a finger on the little harpy. We see this bet through to the end!" Brekk snapped.

"That 'ent fair!" Someone challenged immediately.

"Life ain't fair!" Brekk snapped.

"You just wanna leave 'er like that 'cause you might win now!" The speaker challenged.

More than a few gasps rose up from the group – Brekk snarled in wordless rage, and set upon the speaker with fists flying.

It was only with great difficulty that they were all separated before the assembly could devolve into a tangled nest of blaster fire – however, when it finally was, Brekk stood back, wiping the blood from his chin, eyes wild with anger.

"Nobody lays a finger on 'er unless I bloody well say so, ya 'ear? Because if one of you lot beats her to death, there's going to be hell to pay!" Brekk snarled savagely – the room went silent for a moment, as those who stood to benefit the most from the Quartermaster's announcement wordlessly agreed with the statement, and those who disagreed snarled protests under their breath savagely, or glared daggers at the big brute in lieu of any other recourse.

"Get those two outside! Start saying yer bloody prayers, ya wretches!" Brekk ordered, pointedly changing the subject.

Frantic shouts and protests filled the air as the two condemned frantically struggled and begged for mercy or cursed their captors – only those Pirates that had benefitted the most from Brekk's decision and had tacitly sided with him moved to comply with the order.

The rest stood rooted to their spots in silent and passive-aggressive protest, muttering dark and horrible things to themselves as he stormed out of the building.

For Graykill's part, he quickly returned to his duties – the whole of the crew had been called to the meeting, which meant that those assigned to oversee him would be returning to their posts soon.

As the human worked, so did his mind – Brekk was not only losing control of the situation with the pirates in the Captain's stead, he was practically fanning the flames of discord… And if Graykill's judge of his character was accurate, the time to make his next move would be very soon – perhaps as soon as later that same night.


	11. Chapter 11

"The rest of us know what you're up to."

The statement froze Graykill and made his blood turn to ice, as he turned to regard Twi'la, a green-skinned Twi'lek female, and fellow slave.

"W-What?" Graykill stammered; the proclamation had been so stunning that he'd had no chance at all to even attempt to play it off – he had just been preparing to embark upon the next highly risky step of his plan.

"The rest of us know what you're up to." Twi'la repeated evenly; something tugged at Graykill subconsciously; he glanced up and saw all of the other slaves – 9 of them total – all staring at him. Even Loorpa's quicksilver eyes stared at him.

"You've been sneaking out every night for the past week." She remarked, shrewdly. "You've been stealing food from the cafeteria, and all of this under the noses of the guards." Twi'la said.

Graykill's throat worked once – it was suddenly incredibly dry. "I… Don't know what you're talking about." He replied lamely, feeling his cheeks flush unintentionally.

"You're playing an extremely dangerous game, and now it's beginning to reflect on the rest of us. That lynching that took place out there today could have easily gotten one us killed – you _heard_ them; they were onto you, even if the others didn't believe them!" She said, her tone hardening.

Graykill chewed the inside of his cheek anxiously as she spoke – she wasn't wrong, and to lie any further was to invite turning them all against him… If they hadn't already.

"…So what happens now?" He asked, as the cold, instinctive fear of an extremely brutal death filled him; Twi'la hesitated for a moment, glancing at the others and letting the tension hang in the air for a moment.

"…You're planning to escape somehow, aren't you?" She asked; Graykill's cheeks reddened further still; he hadn't breathed a word of it to the other slaves – he knew exactly what needed to be done at each step, and wouldn't have wanted a committee second-guessing his every move; he'd intentionally excluded them, taking all the risks – and if he succeeded, all of the rewards – by himself.

"…Yes." He responded, finding it increasingly more difficult to speak; Twi'la nodded once.

"We want to help in exchange for you getting us out of here too." She said, surprising him – however, her firm expression didn't change.

"We want to know what you plan to do and when, so we can minimize the chance of getting caught holding the bag after one of your schemes. And veto power in case we think you're going to do something particularly ferrocrete-headed." She said; Graykill's stomach churned itself into knots immediately – _all_ of his schemes thus far had been ill-conceived and highly dangerous.

"…No." He responded, startling her. "I'll tell you whatever you all want to know if I have to, but I won't have you guys second-guessing my every move. I haven't got this far by playing it safe, and there's even greater risks that'll be taken before this is all through." He responded, feeling the intense flutter in his stomach of fear and anxiety.

In spite of his statement, the expressions of the other prisoners grew somewhat reluctant – a few of them exchanged glances. "You know we can turn you in to the overseers, right?" Twi'la challenged; though the remark could have clearly been a threat under normal circumstances, any animosity was absent from the Twi'lek's tone.

"Yes." He replied, blandly. "…And while I don't _want_ to die, I'd be doing so with a clean conscience." He said glancing around again, and trying to work his throat past the lump that was forming in it.

"Are you nuts?" Twi'la demanded, her brow furrowing.

"In order to pull off all these stunts, I'd have to be." Graykill admitted, solemnly.

"Who is this prisoner you keep visiting, anyway?" She asked – at this, Graykill knew he would have turned scarlet from brown, though he tried to continue with his bravado anyway.

"Someone who claims to be pretty dangerous if we can just get the neural disrupting collar they put on her off. I've never seen her in action before, but from what I've seen, I don't think she's bluffing at all." Graykill responded.

"And you're just going to trust her – and risk putting all of our asses in the sling – on blind faith?" She asked.

"Well… No. Like I said, she doesn't strike me as a pushover. Do you know she was still capable of having rational thoughts with that collar set to maximum power? Do you have any idea how supremely strong-willed a creature would have to be to keep from being completely addled like any of the rest of us would?" Graykill demanded.

Looks of surprise – and skepticism – flitted between the other prisoners.

"If she's so great, then why was she captured in the first place?" Twi'la challenged.

"I have no idea – we haven't had the chance to exchange our life stories; I've only been going and coming long enough to deliver food and water every now and then." Graykill responded.  
"Whatever happened, I'm sure there were good reasons behind her capture."

Twi'la retreated back to be with the others, who immediately began conversing in hushed tones and glancing at him periodically; Graykill felt his skin prickle. Every second they delayed was a second wasted; so, without another word, he stood – and began to head for the door.

"Wait!" Twi'la called, when she saw Graykill readying to leave. "Where are you going?" She demanded.

"To further my escape plan." Graykill replied.

"Human-Graykill, we are not finished discussing this matter yet!" Loorpa called.

"…And that's exactly the problem." Graykill responded – ironically in spite of the challenge that lay before him, the feeling of getting back on track settled his nerves instead of frazzling them.

"You guys will want to talk it over all night I'm sure; it'll be sunrise before you reach a decision, sitting around discussing this crap like Senators in the Old Republic. It's hardly a wonder why the Confederacy got fed up with it and tried to go their own way." Graykill responded – his family had originally hailed from a Confederate system before moving away to escape the worst of the fighting.

"This is exactly the reason I said I'd just as well go my own way – I might already have missed my window of opportunity; tonight was extremely important!" Graykill responded. Only silence met this statement – Graykill poked his head out, checking to see if the coast was clear or not, and finding no one around.

There was one final chorus of reluctant whispers among the prisoners, and then Twi'la stood. "Wait. I'm going with you." She offered – Graykill paused.

Twi'la was respectable as a sneak – she had been here as long as Graykill had, though they had been captured in different places and never knew each other before their time here. She was of reasonably sound mind and body – and while neither of them had ever gone particularly far out of their way to make friends with one another, they were polite terms with one another until now.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Neither slave made a sound as they quietly stalked down the quiet halls; something niggled at Graykill – it was quiet. _Too_ quiet.

After bypassing an inattentive Guard together, Graykill reached his destination: Brekk's office-quarters, where the dictatorial Quartermaster often carried out most of his administrative duties.

By Graykill's guess, the strain of recent events was probably beginning to take its toll on the brute; he should be passed out in his office – it would be the one chance Graykill had to make a move before the Captain returned from his ventures and a measure of forced discipline was returned, which would likely be very soon.

Graykill saw a light coming from within the room – the door was open, but no sound came from within; it was deathly silent, and that set Graykill on edge. Twi'la seemed to sense this, and jerked her eyes in the direction of the slave quarters – however, the human shook his head and squared his shoulders: they had come too far to run away now.

Graykill spotted Brekk slouched back in his chair, with his feet up on his desk and a hand resting upon a half-empty jug of spirits – exactly as he'd guessed. However, instead of his typically loud and raucous snoring, he remained motionless and still.

They drew closer, and Twi'la blanched – Graykill only shook his head grimly. A vibro-knife protruded from the dead Pirate's torso, right about where the circulatory organ in his species would be; evidently, someone _else_ – likely resentful over his decision to spare the Togruta – had thought to visit him in the night.

"We should leave!" Twi'la whispered nervously in Graykill's ear; he only shook his head, glancing around the room – the conditions were perfect for this clandestine venture.

"Be my lookout. Warn me if anyone comes." Graykill responded, stepping into the office.

The place had been tossed very quickly and haphazardly by the murderer – whoever had done so had likely given the place a once-over for anything of value such as currency that wouldn't be directly traceable if it were missed, while he was there; Graykill spotted the purpose of his visit hanging from the wall: a set of small chip-keys on the wall.

Retrieving it with a nearby napkin and touching nothing else, Graykill grinned – Twi'la frowned, not recognizing the significance of the device, until Graykill drew up his pant leg and exposed the ankle-device that he and the other prisoners wore.

Should anyone wearing one stray outside of the electronic 'fence' established by the Pirates in the course of an escape, the device would explode, blowing the slave's leg off or possibly killing the hapless prisoner outright; the insidious devices could also be triggered by remote as well.

Graykill plugged in several chips until he found the one he needed; the collar's status light flashed green, and then winked off. Its weight shifted almost imperceptibly as the internal latching mechanism unlocked – although he didn't remove it for appearances' sake, it was officially deactivated.

In spite of herself and her previous complaints, Twi'la grinned from Lekku to Lekku when Graykill deactivated hers as well, and then removed it from its ring and handed it to her.

"It's good that you've come along because we have to split up – go and deactivate the others' ankle bands, and then hide it somewhere they won't find it if they toss the slave pen. We can't get caught with them! I'll be along shortly." Graykill whispered to her quietly – gingerly she accepted the bundled key, and quickly made off with it.

Graykill glanced at the other differently shaped keys – he had one final risk to take.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

To Graykill's immense relief, the way was clear to the Prison hold – it wouldn't be for very long once Brekk's death was discovered.

Sneaking inside, he found Ahsoka quietly waiting for his appearance.

"I don't have much for you tonight." Graykill said, truly upset at the paltry offering of a single strip of jerky – Ahsoka accepted it without complaint.

"That's alright. I've made do without, before – I think I'll be okay for a while yet still." Ahsoka responded.

"Come here." Graykill responded – selecting the key-chip based on size, and shape, he found the one he wanted: Ahsoka's eyes lighted up as she realized what was coming.

"You managed to sneak the keys away?!" She asked, excitedly.

"Yes and no – somebody _else_ was supremely upset at Brekk's decision to let you live. I found him murdered in his quarters just earlier." Graykill replied.

Ahsoka's grin spread even wider – in depleted, battered, and exhausted state, she embraced the feelings of schadenfreude she felt at learning of his death. His relatively benign death would have paled in comparison to some of the ideas for revenge she had been using to occupy and sharpen her mind and body as she continued to work her muscles out.

 _Beep!_

It was as if a light had been switched on inside Ahsoka's head, and her brain had been plugged into a planetary hyper matter reactor – all of the thoughts, all of the emotions, all of her artificially latent force-sense, _all_ of what made Ahsoka Tano a functional Togruta being – came roaring back at once, like a tidal wave of epic proportions.

The sudden absence of the collar was tumultuous – the thoughts and feelings that she had latched onto to begin sharpening her mind now no longer came to her at a distance; her attempts to focus on them galvanized her firm grasp on them, threatening to overwhelm Ahsoka from the overload of sheer _being_.

"Hey!"

The voice sounded distant, and yet Ahsoka's mind oriented on and focused upon it immediately without the stupification of before She opened her eyes, and saw Graykill for what seemed like the first time – again.

"You zoned out on me there. Are you going to be okay?" The human asked; concern was evident in his expression, except…

 _To hell with facial expression! I can practically taste it in him!_ Ahsoka realized, as she again was finally able to perceive the thoughts and emotions of others – particularly the human standing before her. In an instant, her mind – frenetic and impulsive now that it was unchained – reached out and unintentionally seized his mind roughly.

There were thoughts about her there, about her: thoughts that made her heart clench, thoughts that made her eyes tear up… And of course, other more 'private' thoughts that made her skin blush icy blue the longer she indulged them.

 _Get a hold of yourself!_ The Togruta scolded herself sharply – in spite of the thrill of what felt like recovering from a total lobotomy, Ahsoka had been a Padawan Jedi at one point. _Now act like it!_ She reminded herself pointedly, seizing control again of her wandering mind.

"What… Wha-happened?" Graykill slurred, blinking in disbelief – Ahsoka clenched her teeth.

"I don't know. Faulty electronics in the collar might have zapped you, maybe?" She lied, able to think on her feet and come up with a cover story the spot once again.

Graykill shook his head, glancing at her – again in spite of the somewhat flimsy lie, she still perceived a spike of concern for her.

"Are you alright? Did it zap you?" He asked, glancing at her neck.

"A little – I'll be fine though now that it's off." Ahsoka said, confidently.

"You better get back before you're missed – I don't want anything to happen to you now of all times. I'll be able to take care of myself." She said, truthfully – Graykill nodded vacantly, pressing a hand to his own head for a moment.

"Ruh––Right. Hang in there." The human responded numbly.


	12. Chapter 12

The upside to having lost so many pirates lately to his skulduggery was that it was becoming easier to wander the halls late at night – there were fewer Weequay left alive to post Guard duty, and those that _did_ still live were preoccupied watching each other for reasons to fight.

The key-chip ring was replaced in Brekk's office and Graykill skulked back to the Slave Quarters to a hero's welcome. However, in spite of their good fortune to have the ankle-units deactivated, there still remained the problem of actually escaping, which would be incredibly difficult to do.

"So what's the next step of your plan?" A prisoner asked. "And is there anything any of us can do to help?" One of them asked.

"The prisoner mentioned that she disguised a pair of weapons she built from scratch so they wouldn't accidentally be discovered." Graykill responded. "We need to find them if they were brought here, and get them to her. She promised to take handle everything else if we can do just that." Graykill responded.

"What do these implements of war most resemble? An archaic slug-throwing device? A bowcaster? A disruptor rifle?" Loorpa gurgled, giving voices to the question Graykill had no precise answer to.

"…I don't know. She said they just looked like pieces of junk – I realize it could be difficult to find them but we have no other options. Our best chance might lie in finding her knapsack, which may or may not have been take along in the raid they originally captured her in." Graykill responded.

"Should we check the armory? Perhaps they've already been found." Someone wondered aloud.

Graykill shook his head – Brekk had voice-printed the armory lock with a spoken code; pilfering a key would not help them there, and Brekk himself had taken the only method of access with him to the grave. "It won't work. She seemed confident they wouldn't be found – she said they would look more like ordinary machine scrap than a blaster." Graykill responded.

A moment of silence filtered through the assembled slaves, as they chewed over this piece of information. "How do we know she's not tricking you into freeing her? We could be trading one overseer for another." Someone finally spoke – Graykill frowned.

"No. She's as desperate to get out of here as we are; something – I don't know what – about her makes me think she's dealing squarely with us. I think the pirates should be more afraid of her than we should." He replied, confidently.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

As the night deepened, Ahsoka no longer found herself struggling to deal with the grim conditions in the prison hold. Seating herself in the center of her cage, Ahsoka quietly began to focus inward, past the distractions of the flesh, centering herself.

Unlike as sometimes in the past, the meditative trance came easily now, thankfully – the Togruta eagerly welcomed the dullness meditation provided to the physical senses, momentarily deadening them and allowing her to push her body's discomforts away and concentrate her mental energies elsewhere.

The bars of her cage ceased to hold meaning to Ahsoka's mind, as did the walls of the prison bay, and the Pirate Haven itself. She registered the presence of many minds across the base; all of them radiated with anger, aggression, fear, and hatred – the same thoughts that had occupied the Togruta's own mind with frightening prevalence in recent days.

Ahsoka's concentration wavered – the urge to strike out at these minds filled her, for all the suffering they had caused; it was certainly within her power to do so, and they deserved it for what they had done to her, and to countless others. However, she instead tuned them down one by one, so that they became little more than static in the background of her mind; there would be time for that later.

Ahsoka then found a collection of nine dormant beings. Each of them flickered and vellicated with impulses of fear, sorrow, regret, loneliness, and grief. _Aha… There you are._ She thought silently to herself – she had at last found the slaves.

However, as Ahsoka visited each one of them, basking in the dim glow of their subconscious dreams, thoughts, and memories, she was startled to find little there that could be attributed to her at all. Only one of the minds glowed brightly with thoughts of her, and it was distressed – acutely distressed.

This mind Ahsoka magnetically gravitated to almost immediately.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

The nightmare continued unabated as it always did – Graykill found himself fighting for his life against Dorekk, who had finally elected to kill him and brandished a vibro-knife. The human struggled, calling to the other slaves or really anyone for help; despite his most valiant efforts, the knife drew closer.

A sudden flash left Graykill alone on the hazy facsimile of the floor – Dorrekk was gone. Not defeated, not killed, not even chased away; he simply vanished, as was sometimes known to happen in dreams. In the Captain's place was a startlingly familiar figure.

 _Ashla!_ Graykill thought, in wonder, recognizing the familiar image of the Togruta in his mind – though she seemed a bit too agitated to be serene, she still radiated comforting thoughts to him.

 _What are you doing here?_ Graykill wondered hesitantly – the Togruta gave him a thin, wan smile.

 _I didn't know you'd taken to dreaming about me now, too._ Ashla said sarcastically, grinning a little wider; Graykill could find nothing to counter this statement with – her appearance had been too abrupt, and his mind grasped for an excuse with which to salvage some of his dignity.

 _It's… It's okay._ She said, after a moment, hesitantly drawing nearer to him – for all of her dry wit earlier, Ashla seemed to be at as much of a loss as the human on what to say next.

 _...Now that we have some time to actually talk… I want to thank you for what you're doing for me._ Ahsoka said, recovering from the thick silence that pervaded them first, and steadying herself. _I don't know that I can really convey how grateful I am to know that I've got someone like you that is looking out for me for once. It's… Been a feeling I've missed for a while now. A lot._ She responded, and Graykill felt a strong wave of morose grief wash over him, buffeting his senses and threatening to sever the tentative connection between them.

 _Whoops... Sorry. Force of habit._ Ashla remarked, though Graykill couldn't even begin to understand what she meant by it – even so, the sorrow faded away abruptly, as if it had been sealed away or bottled up; its departure allowed him to regain some measure of his concentration.

 _Is any of this real? Or am I just dreaming?_ Graykill finally asked.

 _It's not important._ Ashla responded, simply; somehow, the logic fit, and Graykill abandoned the line of reasoning without a backward thought.

 _I've done some… Searching. You would have never found the weapons I asked you to look for because they aren't here. But I can sense their presence – I can 'hear' them approaching. They are coming here – perhaps on a ship, or a speeder. They will be here soon – that is where you must look for them._ Ashla responded, and Graykill paused.

Dreams were fleeting things – the fear that he would forget all of this the moment he woke, struck him. However, Ashla drew a little closer. _Search for them aboard the ship. You will find them there._ She repeated, as if detecting his fears, and attempting to brand the urge within his subconscious.

Again, there was silence. _How are you doing any of this?_ Graykill asked, again letting his attention span wander to a nagging thought that had been bothering him lately.

 _I'll tell you later, if we survive. We'll… We'll probably have a lot of time together afterward – I can explain everything then. But the time to escape will be here soon – be ready, because there won't be any going back, or getting any second chances._ Ashla replied.

The nervousness color of her thoughts was almost immediately burned away by the heady thrill that colored Graykill's thoughts at the first part of her statement – for her part, even Ashla fell abruptly silent, either surprised or distracted by the strength of the sudden wave of infatuation she felt from the human's mind.

Though her purposes in visiting the human had originally been business first… Ahsoka perceived his affection, and it bathed her in a warm, gentle glow. It was so intoxicating it caught her off-guard.

It was one thing to feel the embrace of another, or to hear the soothing vibrations of a reassuring voice in her montrals, but it was another thing to witness another sentient being's very mind and soul bare, and to experience their selfless devotion to another first-hand.

The Togruta's consciousness drew closer still, and the human began to feel her impression distinctly within his mind as she approached; Graykill tensed. Despite understanding little of what he was experiencing, the human sensed that the act of joining touching raw spiritual essences would achieve a whole new level of intimacy with the Togruta that the joining of raw flesh could never hope to achieve.

 _Will you… Will you show me what's in your heart? When you look at me the way you do when you're here in person._ Ashla asked – it was a request the human realized in an instant that he badly wanted to comply with.

The tender warmth reminded Ahsoka of basking in the warm rays of a yellow sun – this time, she didn't push it away, and instead welcomed it, trying to capture the memory to visit and reminisce over later, when the dream was finally over. Unable to help herself, the Togruta's mind drew closer yet still.

In straying _too_ close, Ahsoka's perceptions and conscience accidentally melded with Graykill's, and it was indeed electrifying. In an instant, the human was again made aware of a tumultuous sea of emotions within the Tortuga's own mind – fear, concern, protectiveness, hatred toward the pirates, fear and regret of something from her past, flashes of memories… And then nothing, as his fragile grasp on their connection was broken.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Graykill sat bolt upright on his mat, perspiring. The dim echo of the dream resonated in his mind; his skin prickled as the rush of release and thrill from the dream filtered through his body, and he glanced around. It was still dark, though all of the other slaves were asleep – he could only guess at what time it was.

Around him, the other slaves doze silently, and moreover, soundly – if the Togruta had chosen to visit any of them in their own dreams, they certainly weren't showing it.

 _But… Did she?_ Graykill wondered – he had spent the most time in her presence, and obviously felt the strongest attachment to her. Laying back on his mat and wiping his face off: _We'll probably have a lot of time together afterward._

Graykill certainly hoped so – the thought was extremely comforting.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

 _Damn it._ Ahsoka thought to herself, savagely.

It had been the first time she'd successfully touched the mind of another in such a manner… And it had been every bit as sweet as she'd hoped it could be. More so, even; not even her imagination had scratched the surface.

However, she'd bungled the already extremely tentative mental connection by getting carried away – among Jedi, such forms of mind-melding was already difficult. With a non-force sensitive, it was nearly impossible with the being in a waking state, when their mind was not clear enough and vulnerable enough to the power of external suggestion to feel her thoughts.

 _Well… I got across what I needed to get across. I only hope it did it strongly enough that he caught on._ She thought to herself, blowing a furious breath at herself out of her nose.

However, exactly as she'd intended, she felt some stirrings of the encounter in her mind – she revisited the memory, and a shy smile visited her face. For a moment, she felt the protective concern of Obi-Wan and Anakin, but mixed with the nascent affection of Lux Bontieri – and unlike those recollections of her past life, these memories didn't hurt Ahsoka; there was no pain when revisiting them.

Vibrations – Ahsoka glanced up, forgetting the dream altogether, as the door opened. Could the human have been reckless enough to come visit her again so soon?

"Well now, yer awake lass. Ta hell with what Brekk wanted – ya get ta die screamin' instead'a dreamin' so the bet's off, which is fine by us." A Pirate growled, to the amusement of his companion – neither of them were familiar to Ahsoka, but that changed little considering each of them had a blaster in hand.

Ahsoka grinned – a tight, humorless grin. It was time to see how well her grasp of other less-passive Force powers had weathered her brief period as a victim of the neural disruptor.

 **==================================================[##*#########]** **o**

With a shaky slam, the Pirate ship – a battered old transport with weapons haphazardly slapped on – settled down on the landing platform hard enough that the artificial gravity generators fluctuated.

Dorrekk growled in annoyance and shot his helmsman a savage glare as the sound of cargo rattling in the hold filtered up onto the bridge – the pilot returned a sheepish and apologetic shrug. "I'll… Er… Get on fixin' the repulsor landing gear first thing in tha mornin', cap'n!" He promised shakily; Dorrek rolled his eyes.

Most of the cargo had remained intact – a number of crates piled haphazardly and high had been jarred loose, spilling the contents across the floor; mostly stolen provisions and other dry goods from settlements they'd raided, and the like. As always, his mind preoccupied itself in working through the calculations on how much loot they'd get from this latest haul.

However, as Dorrekk strode forward, his foot thumped into an oblong, heavy piece of scrap metal – it didn't look immediately familiar to him, and he glanced up and around the ship, looking to see if perhaps it had been a part or piece that had been knocked loose from the craft's interior.

Not seeing anything, Dorrekk glanced at the spilled cargo crates – again, his teeth gritted. He would have liked to make the pilot correct is own error by picking everything up by hand, by himself – but the miserable wretch did indeed need to work on fixing the ship first; the sooner it was serviceable, the sooner they could fence their stolen cargo and get paid.

Absently, Dorrekk picked up the hefty piece of metal and strode off down the ship's ramp, thinking back on how best to maximize their profits. Perhaps if he took the old moldering grain sitting in storage they had been meaning to throw away and sell it instead of the fresher stuff, it would…

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

In spite of her regained abilities, Ahsoka felt fear – lots of it. And it came more quickly than it had in as long as she could remember; these Pirates stood a very real chance of prematurely ending her life. That in itself wasn't as disconcerting as the fact that they would depriving her of the newly realized reason she had to live again.

That fear brought with it resentment – resentment that these two would dare to live the life of brigands and outlaws, preying upon the weak, inflicting countless and untold horrors on other incidents, and generally working to undo everything she had once stood for.

The resentment quickly metamorphosed into anger – anger, plain and pure, that they would dare to presume to take the lives of innocents, and threaten her after all the misery and suffering they had already caused her, and the others she'd sensed. In an instant, she made the jump from fear to rage.

 _I'm not a Jedi anymore – which means I have someone to live for besides myself now._ The absent thought hardly registered over the wave of disgust she felt building toward the two pirates, skulking toward her. She knew first-hand that – had Anakin been here – these slavers they would have been dealt with very, _very_ severely; her old master had flouted council decrees on maintaining personal vendettas and aggressively pursued slavers whenever the opportunity presented itself.

A tension built up within Ahsoka – a pressure. The discomfort of her still-sore muscles faded away in an instant, as a keen edge Ahsoka had never before experienced, crystallized her thoughts and concentration – like a Rathus, she struck out with all the force of her consciousness, and seized upon the two pirates' minds.

Finding what she was looking for, the Togruta grinned a little wider; fortified by greed, the two pirates' minds were not necessarily weak targets… But then again, Ahsoka's grasp on her Force powers had never seemed this firm before.

She found their wills – snapped them like match sticks.

" _You don't want to hurt me._ "

Ahsoka's hand waved once, daintily, but the effect was immediate – the two pirates slowed to a stop, and lowered their blasters.

"Hey, relax lass! We ent really gonna hurtcha – we was just kiddin' is all." One Pirate said, seemingly distressed at realizing there was a blaster in his own hand – his companion nodded eagerly. Together, the pair holstered their weapons.

"Good…" Ahsoka replied sweetly, her false cheerfulness bringing smiles to the two pirates' faces.


	13. Chapter 13

Unlike it usually did, returning to base did not fill Captain Dorrekk with the usual feeling of relaxation to be back home at last – he'd lost 9 pirates including Brekk.

The thought made the Captain growl a wordless snarl of frustration out loud – being the leader of a band of cutthroats would be a lot more difficult without him around to do most of the dirty work of enforcing discipline among the crew. More importantly, the miserable bastard was dead – he'd pushed the crew to the edge of mutiny and then died, leaving Dorrekk sitting on a thorium keg just waiting to go off at the slightest provocation.

"Get some bloody slaves up here to cleanup the ship! _Now!_ " Dorrekk snarled at one of his crewmen as he walked; the pirate immediately set off to do as he was told.

Dorrekk reached Brekk's room a moment later – a relatively short period of time had passed, and so Brekk still sat slumped back in his chair, knife still protruding from his torso; Dorrekk's blaster hand worked into a trembling first as he considered the task ahead of him.

He'd have to ferret out the kath hounds that did this – there would have to be hell to pay, and it would risk bringing him even more hazardously close to pushing the malignerer or malignerers over the edge and inciting outright mutiny… While to let the matter drop unpunished might give them ideas about coming after his own head.

Dorrekk growled… His eyes scanned over the room, and registered the absence of a number of valuables – valuables that should have gone to him at the very least for first pickings, as Captain of the crew. It made Dorrekk's blood boil.

The Captain eyed the vibro-knife embedded within the dead Pirate, and scowled darkly. The grip had been treated so as to reveal nothing about who used it last – it was also devoid of any markings, and fairly generic at that. Dorrekk's eyes wandered to the ruined security system in one corner of Brekk's room – it had been destroyed past the point of repair in a drunken rage long, long ago.

Out of sheer aggravation, Dorrekk kicked Brekk's corpse.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"Oi!" A Pirate snarled, flicking on the lights and striding in; all the slaves stirred to frightened wakefulness and dreading the reason for being roused at such an hour.

"You! Take this horrible lot out to the ship, and pick it up! The Captain wants the hold clean, on the double!" The pirate snapped, pointing to Twi'la, and three of the other slaves.

Graykill clenched his teeth together – he needed to get to the ship! But… Why? The human's mind raced, trying in vain to recall any details from his hazy and already distant dream he'd had before waking up abruptly.

"The rest of you miserable blighters may as well get up and get ta work since you're already awake. Pick ya feet up, before I blast 'em out from under ya!" The Pirate said with a grim smirk at the other slaves, who all sagged at the news – there would be no more sleep this night, and they would all be in for another long day of hard, thankless work.

"I… I think I should go with them." Graykill said – the whole room momentarily went quiet, and all the slaves shot horrified glances at him.

"Ye wot!?" The Pirate demanded, equally taken aback that the human had dared to speak up.

"There will be a lot of heavy lifting in the cargo hold – they could use the help. I can go with them!" Graykill said to the Pirate, approaching, and glancing toward the slaves selected for emphasis: there were a male Sullustan, a female Rodian, Loorpa the Ithorian, and Twi'la herself… All of them were of short or thin stature, ill-suited for particularly hard work.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

A low moan escaped Graykill, whose head throbbed terribly. "Easy – try not to move so much so quickly." A Cathar male slave named Seepurr said, quietly.

"Wh…?" Graykill mumbled, sitting up.

"You don't remember what happened?" Seepurr asked, sounding somewhat concerned.

"…No…" Graykill replied, opening his watery eyes.

Seepurr's feline features shifted in and out of focus for several moments; Graykill grasped for the large, swollen lump on his forehead and hissed in pain – it pulsated with pain, and he knew it would only get worse later. More importantly, he found that he couldn't recall anything at all since the night before, despite the niggling feeling he was supposed to have done something important.

"Thorrn didn't like you questioning his orders; you got a pretty good whack across the head with his blaster butt. But you look like you'll pull through – for now." The Cathar replied, unhappily. "Are you crazy talking back to him like that?!"

"He'll be back soon." Another male human slave, a man named Gar said, before Graykill could respond. "We shouldn't move him, but if we don't, Thorrn will probably kill him this time. Come on, Gray – hang in there; they'll forget about you once we get to work, and you can take it a little easier." Gar suggested.

Graykill didn't nod; it would have aggravated his head. He didn't speak, he didn't do anything – it hurt too much. "Come on, help him up." Gar said, and both he and Seepurr hoisted Graykill to his feet; he swayed unsteadily, as the room spun.

"Come on. Let's––" The rest of the speaker's voice became an unintelligible hum, as Graykill's head sagged; a wave of dizziness overcame him, threatening to make him swoon. Again, he knew nothing.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"Are you awake this time?" Seepurr's voice finally reached Graykill, piercing through the unusual sleepiness Graykill felt cloud his thoughts.

"I… I think so." Graykill responded – he was seated, propped upright and half-hidden from the accidental view of passersby in an alcove created by some crates; nearby, some other slaves worked.

Thankfully, Graykill's mind worked well enough that at least recognize his surroundings. "How did I get here?" He mumbled.

"We half-carried, half-dragged you here before Thorrn came back. You've been out for a while now. Are you ready to try putting weight back on your feet?" Seepurr replied – he spoke as he cleaned the floors, not pausing his work.

"I… I think so." Graykill mumbled – Gar offered a hand, helping the wavering young man to his feet.

"Easy there. Just… Look busy for now I guess. Sweep." Gar said, offering a broom to Graykill, who ended up leaning on it heavily instead.

 _What was I supposed to be doing…?_ Graykill wondered, trying to think to what he was doing earlier – there was nothing there, no hint at all of whatever crucial memories he tried to remember in vain.

"How long have I been out?" Graykill asked, weakly making an attempt to shuffled the broom across the floor – the effort made him nauseous, so he stopped.

"About two hours. It's almost sunup." Gar said, glancing out a nearby view-port to the dim pre-dawn beginning to tint the sky outside.

"I… I should make for the kitchens. It'll be breakfast soon." Graykill mumbled – Gar shook his head.

"You don't look like you can handle it in your current condition. Just take it easy for now." The human said, glancing around – the other slaves stopped for a moment.

"I'll go in his place." An Iridonian named Orai-Tlan remarked – relief flooded Graykill; he truly didn't think he could have stomached the intensity of the kitchens during breakfast right now at all.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Roughly around mid-morning, the Orai-Tlan returned and headed straight for Graykill, a conspiratorial smile on his face.

"I have something for you." He said, glancing around once, before producing an oblong metal case with what appeared to be a broken analog readout device of some kind on the front.

"What is it?" Graykill asked, frowning at the strange object.

"I have no idea, but Loorpa gave it to me when I went to bring them the morning scraps from breakfast. Twi'la found it while cleaning up the ship; both of them seemed somewhat excited about it. I didn't get many details because there were Pirates nearby, but, do you think it could be the weapon we were sent to look for?" He asked – Gar and the others perked up immediately, glancing around once before drawing a little closer as they worked.

"W… Weapon?" Graykill asked, falling silent for a moment – though the effort taxed him, he wracked his brain for a moment.

"The one–" Orai began to say, until the thought finally struck Graykill.

"–Ashla!" Graykill gasped, in shock, reaching a shaking hand out for the unremarkable metal case.

The deceptively heavy weight of the object nearly caused it to tumble from Graykill's hand – something shifted faintly inside and as he scrambled to catch it with both hands, and Orai caught him.

"Easy there." The Iridonian remarked, only letting Graykill go once the threat of toppling over had passed.

"How in the Galaxy did they find it!?" Graykill breathed in disbelief, then stopped. "–If it _is_ what we're looking for, I mean." He added – however, even as he spoke the words, the incredible heft of the case paradoxically seemed to settle comfortably in his hand; something about the way it did so, sparked a faint sense of reassurance in Graykill's mind.

"You can ask Twi'la and the others this evening, maybe; like I said, I couldn't get much out of them." Orai responded, as Gar stepped forward.

"It could be nothing, or it could be exactly what we need – but, without knowing which it is, we can't take any chances on having it discovered or drawing attention to ourselves by standing around. Hide it, and get back to work." He stated, glancing at each of the others in turn.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

By lunch, when most of the Weequay on base sat down to their noonday meal, a pair of their comrades strode in and stood. The Pirates seated and eating paused – they all quietly regarded each other for a moment; one of the seated Pirates opened his mouth to speak… And then without preamble, the two traitorous Weequay drew their blasters and opened fire.

Bolts collided with bodies – skulls ruptured violently from the impacts; flesh and bone alike were incinerated, and smoking corpses dropped to the floor. Cries of alarm from the surprised collection at the tables quickly shouted to roars of outrage and calls for return fire as the pair ducked behind an overtured table.

In no time at all, the shooting erupted into a fully fledged blaster battle, whose deafening sounds traveled through the hallways and whose last faint vibrations at last finally reached a pair of sensitive montrals. Ahsoka grinned to herself, seated as she was cross-legged in the middle of her cage.

 _Technically_ , she hadn't done anything 'wrong' to the pair of Pirates that had come to kill her the night before, in the sense that the Togruta hadn't outright force-persuaded the pair to kill themselves or each other, as _that_ would have been a gross misuse of force powers from a former Jedi's perspective.

Rather, Ahsoka had simply force-persuaded them to see the 'error' of their ways, and compelled them to rethink their lives of villainy as Master Obi-Wan had once mentioned doing to a drug dealer years ago. It had been childishly easy then to force to convince the pair to 'turn over a new leaf' then, and to take up a – likely very brief – new life as Pirate hunters.

She only hoped the pair would use their skill with a blaster to good effect, slaying as many of their former comrades as possible before the Pirates inevitably recovered from the treachery and finally killed them.

The blaster fire reached a crescendo – the only unsettling feeling that crossed Ahsoka's mind then was that she dearly hoped Graykill and the rest of the slaves were safe from harm, or at least out of the worst of the crossfire.

 _You are falling, Padawan Tano._

Though the words seemed distant and hazy, they were unmistakable – and the disappointment within them struck Ahsoka harder than a physical blow from the originator might have, had he still been alive.

Ahsoka cast about the prison bay almost fearfully, spotting no one. Concentrating hard to regain some semblance of the Meditative Trance she had just been jarred abruptly from, Ahsoka reached out, perceiving hard and trying to find the source of the familiar voice within the walls of the Pirate compound, and finding nothing.

 _We were mistaken before, when we claim you had fallen to the dark side of the force, Little 'Soka. We paid the price for that false judgment with our lives._ The thought resonated inwardly, from within Ahsoka's own mind.

 _You may have turned away from the Order – turned away from our misguided arrogance – and in doing so, saved yourself. You found a truer path than we – but that path is one you are also straying from._

Ahsoka opened her eyes again, scanning the deserted interior of the bay once more and knowing she wouldn't see anyone there.

 _Look inside yourself, Little 'Soka – you've already taken the first steps along the path to the dark side. You have already harnessed the edge it's given your powers, and used it to commit murder._

Seemingly punctuating that statement, a particularly loud noise – perhaps a grenade blast – rattled the walls. Then, there was a pointed silence, and Ahsoka didn't hear anything from her brainwashed freedom-fighters anymore.

 _It was my only option – what else could I have done?_ Ahsoka asked herself, in distress.

 _You were one of our best and brightest, Little 'Soka. You would have found an alternative, had you not simply taken the easy way out by giving yourself over to the temptations of power. I'm certain of it._

A tear slid down Ahsoka's cheek – in spite of his fearsome appearance and his reputation as a warrior, Master Plo Koon had always been patient with Ahsoka, always correcting her with advice and wisdom. The crushing sadness she now heard in his tone burned, like a lightsaber wound.

 _I… Only did it for the others!_ Ahsoka thought to herself, guiltily. _The others – the slaves… And Graykill._ She finally admitted, after a great degree of hesitation.

 _...What good are my abilities if I can't use them to defend the innocent? Isn't that what the entire purpose of the Jedi was?_ Ahsoka wondered, defensively.

… _Much, much suffering has been – and is yet still to be – wrought in the Galaxy, thanks to misguided actions perpetrated under the best of intentions,_ the thoughts in her mind returned, ominously.

For some unknown reason, the memory of her almost certainly dead master Anakin visited Ahsoka's mind at that moment.

 _Your decision to defend the innocent is honorable... But the method you chose to accomplish that end is_ _not ,_ the voice admonished in the same tone Master Plo had often used in life when he knew Ahsoka was being stubborn or purposefully obtuse. _Only the Sith with their wanton disregard of others would choose to flagrantly expend others in such a ruthless manner._ Ahsoka's dry throat worked once, as the wisdom of the statement hit her fully.

 _Like you, those Pirates' ways were not set in stone – they had as much as you still do the ability to turn away from darkness. Never forget that Redemption is a Jedi's greatest gift – to themselves, and just as importantly, to others._

Ahsoka glanced around the utterly deserted and dark pen, still half-hoping that something _–_ even a ghostly apparition _–_ might present itself to her.

However, as before, there was no one else around but her, her thoughts, and their highly unpleasant implications.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note:** It's with the deepest apologies that I upload this installment of the series so late. Had some IRL stuff going on and couldn't get around to polishing the rough draft into a finished chapter. Thanks to all who remain(ed) patient!

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

The group of slaves huddled nervously – the lights were off and the door was sealed from the outside electronically. A moment later, the panel turned from red to green, and the door slid open noisily. Loorpa, Twi'la, and the other slaves were all practically tossed in; the door was sealed behind them before the last of them even fully hit the floor.

"What happened out there!?"  
"Are any of you hurt?"  
"What did you see?"

"Who was killed, and why?"

Everything spoken by multiple voices became an unintelligible mess – it was finally Twi'la that loudly shushed them all, returning the bay to some measure of silence. "One at a time! And keep your voices down!" She scolded.

"How did you come across object Gar delivered to me?" Graykill asked – though his voice was uneven and not particularly loud, it still filled the moment's silence in the slave quarters just the same – everyone's breath held.

"…Well… When you risked getting killed for questioning orders to get sent out with our group, it made me wonder why." Twi'la replied. "It sort of clicked after we found an old knapsack filled with junk that didn't seem to belong to Dorrek or his crew while tidying the ship. It was the only thing in there that seemed useful – the rest of it really was junk – so I took a shot in the dark. Is it what we needed?" Twi'la asked, hopefully.

Graykill blew a breath of relief deeply – Twi'la was a genius. "We don't know for sure yet, but, I've got a really good feeling about it." He replied, unable to describe the odd sense of certainty that graced him whenever the object settled into his hand.

"What happened out there?" Gar asked.

This time, it was Loorpa's turn to recount the incident of the two pirates that walked into the mess hall and inexplicably mowed down seven comrades before being blown to bits by a grenade.

At the end of the recounting, a silence fell over the assembly – without prompting, Graykill cleared his throat. "If Ashla had anything to do with the shootings, she didn't mention anything to me about it. I'm literally here in the dark as much as the rest of you on that." He explained.

"Ashla?" Twi'la repeated. "That's her name?"

"Yes." Graykill responded; again, a brief silence followed.

"I've never heard that name before – certainly not anybody famous for being a badass of any kind, that's for sure." Seepurr replied, hesitantly.

"What will happen next?" Someone wondered aloud nervously, voicing the unspoken question on all of their minds – herding them all in one spot was standard operating procedure during an emergency; however, it theoretically also made it much easier to mow them all down with a repeating blaster should anyone in authority decide the slaves had outlived their usefulness.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Dorrekk stood in a blackened crater in the trashed mess hall, glaring in intense disgust at the puddle of goo under his feet that had once been two crewmen that had expressed much vitriol against Brekk and moreover, his conduct regarding the bet on the life of the Togruta prisoner.

The captain glanced around at the carnage – seven Quay lay dead, and another two had suffered such bad injuries that they would soon follow suit; there didn't exist much Bacta in the Pirate base, and what little there was certainly wasn't about to be wasted on the two rotten sods that had been wounded.

Coupled with the losses from before and during his departure, Dorrekk was looking at 16 dead – nearly half of the base's compliment, if the pirates that most frequently left the base with the Captain were included.

Though that was nearly a fortune's worth of dead Quay possessions to bicker over… Was it even worth it anymore? The fighting was beginning to tear the crew and the base apart in a way that the last bet had only hinted at – if he didn't play his Pazaak cards right, Dorrekk realized he might end up dead too.

The leader's thoughts turned to the Togruta prisoner herself. She was getting increasingly dangerous to let live any longer, and there also remained the problem of divvying up the spoils that existed so far – the same two problems that Brekk had faced before one or the both of these two scalawags knifed him to death in his sleep.

Dorrekk momentarily considered the prisoners – they'd largely been ignored throughout the ordeal until now. Could any of them have had anything to do with any of this? The Pirate Captain's glare darkened – no. Maybe. Probably not. Yes! …No. What harm could a bunch of weak-minded soft-skins cause? There had been no problems from any of the cowardly dug weevils before the Togruta arrived – which pulled Dorrekk's thoughts back to her.

His instincts for danger and a big payout bothered him again, distinctively – it was the same general feeling he'd felt standing on the ramp of his ship while looking over the village she'd been captured in. Something about her unsettled the Captain; following this train of thought, he began to think hard.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Graykill was shaken awake sometime later by a pair of relatively gentle hands.

"Wake up." Twi'la said.

"What?" Graykill asked sleepily, hoping he'd be able to continue to rest – in the period of relative silence around the base, they had been largely forgotten in the slave quarters; the human had been dozing off the worst of the disorientation from the blow the pirate had dealt him earlier that day.

"Things are getting worse and worse around here. How much longer do you really think we can keep up the trickery like this before somebody gets suspicious?" The Twi'lek asked – Graykill clenched his eyes shut, resisting the urge to go back to sleep.

Though his mat was just an inch thick and uncomfortable to sleep on ordinarily, the blow to his head made him only want to sleep, and the mat was therefore as comfortable as it had ever been to the human in his exhausted state – moreover, it wasn't often they were allowed to rest for so long.

"I… Don't know." Graykill admitted, forcing himself up onto his elbows. "Dorrekk is back, which means things will be different." He said.

"Human-Graykill, what do you suggest we do next? We are closer to freedom than we've ever been with so many of our captors dead." Loorpa gurgled – Graykill paused, trying to stoke his mind.

"Actually… I think I have an idea." Gar replied, hesitantly.

"What's that?" Graykill asked.

"…In all of your scheming and planning, how exactly did you expect to get away from this compound?" The older man asked.

Graykill hesitated for a moment – his original escape plan had only been tailored for himself, and Ashla; none of the other slaves had been involved until now.

"…I… I just assumed we might try to steal their ship, once I figured out how to get my ankle device and her collar off." He mumbled, neglecting to mention that he'd only ever intended for the pair to try their luck at stowing away aboard Dorrekk's vessel, and taking the first opportunity to flee the moment the ship landed at a spaceport.

Gar was silent – however, Seepurr was not. "That plan would never work. Have you forgot about the air-defense tower outside?" He asked; Graykill paused again – he'd never considered it at all.

"I didn't think it actually worked. It looks junked." Graykill replied, hesitantly.

The Pirate base was situated within the remains of an old outpost of some kind – the previous occupants had seen the need to install an old turbo laser air defense battery; though it had not been deactivated, the fixture had been seldom up-kept by the pirates, and was rusted and in a poor state of repair – on its face, it didn't seem to be a likely threat.

"It works." Seepurr stated with grim certainty. "They make me clear the overgrowth and weeds around it from time to time. I have seen inside once or twice – the targeting computer inside has power; everything is functional. It wouldn't repel an invasion force, but against one pirate raider ship it would easily be lethal." The Cathar asserted grimly.

"So now what? It would blow the ship and all of us away before it ever got off the ground if they turned it against us – that's assuming we could even pilot it!" Twi'la asked, a nervous edge in her voice.

"We can pilot it – or at least I can. The problem is again the tower." The Sullustan slave – a freighter co-pilot before his capture, by the name of Gian – volunteered.

"We may as well give up on the idea of taking the ship… It would take military-grade starship cannons to blow that tower up; I don't even think the shuttle's own weapon systems could do the job." Orai, the Iridonian slave, said unhappily.

"That only leaves the idea of escaping overland." Gar remarked – there was a momentary silence.

"That's a terrible idea. They'd pick us off like targets in a shooting gallery from the air!" Somebody voiced the obvious flaw in the plan.

"It's better than nothing at all." Graykill retorted, somewhat helplessly.

"We could try to steal some of their swoop bikes – it would make getting away faster." Orai suggested.

"How would we get off-planet? Even getting to the next settlement could be a challenge – we don't even know where it is. It could be half a planet away in any direction for goodness' sake!"

Graykill lost track of who spoke what in his distracted state, as a thought struck him. If only they could get their hands on some explosives…

"…I've got an idea guys… But, there's no guarantee it'll even work." Graykill said, interrupting the conversation abruptly.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

" _Oi!_ " A Pirate bayed sharply, throwing the door to the slave quarters open and startling all of the slaves in the hold – the Weequay's hand clenched around the heavy blaster pistol slung in a thigh holster, and he sent slaves cowering or huddling together the moment he drew it, then pointed it at Graykill and Loorpa.

A few whimpers escaped the throats of some of the slaves – Graykill flinched, expecting at any moment to be mowed down by a hail of blaster fire; if their scheming had been overheard or suspected somehow, every slave in the bay's life would be forfeit. Seemingly confirming the young man's worst fears, the pirate pointed directly at him – and then Loorpa.

"You lot! Get ova 'ere!" He snapped, barking the order at the two terrified sentients – in spite of the weapon pointed directly at them, they both rushed to obey the order, lest they anger the pirate sent to retrieve them.

Loorpa and Graykill shared a tense look at each other as they stepped out into the hallway; the door to the slave pen hissed shut behind them – incensed at their apparent hesitation, the Pirate let out a wordless shout of anger and planted a boot cruelly between Graykill's shoulder blades, sending him tumbling forward onto his face.

Graykill struggled to his knees even as he fought for the breath that had been booted from his lungs, expecting at any moment for a blaster bolt to replace the Pirate's boot instead.

"Budge up, ya miserable little rotters! We's bloody starvin' we is!" The Pirate roared grumpily – finally aware of what the brute wanted, Graykill and Loorpa practically raced each other down to the kitchens before the Pirate could assault them again; neither spared a glance back as they rounded a corner.

In spite of the pain in his back, Graykill felt a surge of relief – in the midst of planning, he'd forgotten how close it was getting to dinner time, and though they'd neglected to let Graykill and Loorpa out, the pirates would no doubt expect to be fed soon.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

When Graykill did not arrive at his usual time late that evening with Ahsoka's daily ration of pilfered food and water, she had to consciously force herself not to give in to despair – though she dearly missed the nourishment, she found herself missing the visit itself more for the first time; the badly needed morale boost was arguably as important as food itself.

Moreover, in reaching outward with her senses, she detected him farther away than he usually would be at this hour; instead of him, a different persona was approaching – a different persona, but most importantly a familiar aura. Not quite alarmed but not reassured in the least, Ahsoka withdrew from her meditative trance.

When the door to the prison bay opened, a relatively familiar form stood there.

"…Hello?" Twi'la asked in a quiet voice, stepping into the prison bay, glancing around for only a moment; though she'd known to expect a stranger, Ahsoka still had to consciously suppress a very stiff wave of disappointment at the realization that Graykill likely wouldn't be visiting her tonight, if he'd sent someone else in his stead.

"Is someone there?" Ahsoka asked, as though she hadn't been aware of the green Twi'lek's approach all along; Twi'la rounded on Ahsoka's voice and approached.

"Yes." The Twi'lek said, quietly sidling up to the cage – she wore a grin that helped lift Ahsoka's spirits a tiny amount. "I'm glad you're awake, because I don't have much time." Twi'la said.

"Where's Graykill?" Ahsoka asked, unable to suppress another burst of anxious curiosity – he had been across the compound, a relatively far distance away from where she guessed they usually slept.

"He's out hopefully helping secure us an exit strategy. I've been sent to tell you to be ready for the signal to escape – you'll know it when you see it, and it'll hopefully be soon. Perhaps even as soon as later tonight – it all depends on how things go over on his end in the next couple of hours." Twi'la responded, then brandished the object exuding the highly familiar aura Ahsoka had detected.

"I was also told to give you this." The Twi'lek said, producing the metal case that had been snuck away from the cargo ship. Seeing it practically set off fireworks of excitement in Ahsoka's eyes – for a moment.

"…Don't think I'm ungrateful but… There should have been something else in the pack or wherever you found this device that looks just like it. You didn't find it?" Ahsoka asked, suddenly very nervous.

"No – if there was, one of the pirates must have found it, or it got thrown away by someone else on accident, because some other slaves and I looked very carefully where we found this. You'll still be able to use this by itself, won't you?" Twi'la asked, anxiously.

Ahsoka nodded, grasping the metal case that disguised the lightsaber within – just one would be enough until she could find out what happened to the other… And Ahsoka knew she'd have little trouble doing so with one weapon in hand. "I'll be able to handle myself just fine for now. Thank you." The Togruta replied, then hesitated for a moment.

"I… Don't guess you've got anything to eat on you, huh?" Ahsoka asked.

Twi'la winced mightily, and shook her head. "I'm sorry, but no. Some pirates went bonkers and killed several others earlier today – the few of us allowed into the kitchens were being watched too closely to sneak anything from it." Twi'la replied

"…I've got to go now – Graykill and the others might be back from their own venture soon. Good luck!" Twi'la said, quietly withdrawing from the Prison bay and leaving Ahsoka with nothing but the rumble of her stomach for company.

 _Master Plo might have been onto something,_ Ahsoka thought to herself somewhat frustratedly, as the door shut.

 _Had I not caused those Pirates to massacre the others, I might have had something to eat right now; evil only begets suffering in the end…_ Ahsoka thought, shifting her attention to the case in her hand.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Too agitated to do anything but focus his thoughts on the Togruta, Dorrekk ceased the pacing around in his quarters and cast about for the forgotten metal contraption he'd absentmindedly tossed in a corner of his quarters the night before, and finally found it at the bottom of the trashcan it had unintentionally landed in – though the object appeared to be junk, something about the Togruta continued to chap and chafe the wily Pirate Leader.

A dent in the side of the trashcan raised Dorrekk's eyebrows – as he hoisted the device, the hefty weight settled into his hand; the Pirate Captain's eyes narrowed. The object didn't rattle but that didn't mean anything just yet to the wily Pirate.

The object looked to be part of a sensor array or a water filtration system – which is to say the metal case had been sealed against tampering.

Taking several minutes to find the pen-cutter he used for modifying his blaster with, Dorrekk turned the case over randomly on one side, clicked the needle-thin jet of plasma energy into existence, and began to cut open the case.

After digging through the wires, circuitry, and other complex internal components, Dorrekk was left with a pile of scrap, and one oblong object that looked for all the world like a power cell.

This too, Dorrekk scrutinized – giving it a firm twist with his hands, nothing happened. Hands shaking from the force of a second and final exertion, a small piece of metal snapped off abruptly. Encouraged, Dorrekk tried again; another piece of what might have been camouflage broke off. Then another, and another.

The exterior camouflage of the device began to break away once Dorrekk figured out its layout, until he was left with an odd, oblong piece of metal that looked strangely familiar, and didn't appear to break down any further.

Turning it over in his hand, the Pirate Captain spotted what looked like buttons and knobs on the curious device; satisfied with his progress, he paused – removing whatever scrap pieces of metal had been affixed to the device had not done much to lighten it.

However, that did little to assuage Dorrekk's curiosity – if he couldn't figure out what the device was on his own, he'd have to pay a little 'visit' to the Togruta and beat the information out of her, for it was obviously something she'd cared enough to hide from scrutiny.

The Pirate's stomach rumbled, and he shifted his gaze to the sandwich he'd neglected to eat until now in his preoccupation – taking a bite and holding up the object at a random angle, Dorrekk chose and pressed a button at random; if he wasn't mistaken, it kind of resembled a––

 _ **FSSSSWASH!**_

A pillar of silver energy exploded forth from one end of the lightsaber hilt, shooting outward in the blink of an eye and coming inches from skewering Dorrekk's head through and through as it past by his cheek and embedded itself in the torso of the Weequay he'd not noticed creeping up behind him.

The would-be murderer let out a terrific gargling scream as the energy beam burnt through his chest and erupted from his back an instant later. Startled by the sudden and unexpected appearance of both the blade and the mutinous backstabbing dog that was just inches away from burying a vibro-dagger in the back of his head, Dorrekk spat the food from his mouth, tossing the sandwich to the floor and jumping from his seat with a roar of indignation.

The blade twisted unnaturally in his hand – the weight of the blade hilt contrasting with the utter weightlessness of the blade, and some odd gyroscopic force that evidently was the result of the blade's function, threw off its balance considerably.

"Wot the bloody rancor-lovin' fack!?" Dorrekk snarled, trying to regain control of the weapon; unfortunately for the hapless assassin impaled on the blade, the experimentation had come at a terrible cost to him – it disintegrated its way through his body, burning free as he collapse, nearly in pieces on the floor.

The blade resonated with an odd but melodic hum, seemingly undisturbed by the grisly action it had inadvertently just been involved in. Dorrekk's eyes stared in wide, unblinking shock at it for a long moment, before the realization hit: Forget the media array. Forget fencing what loot they _had_ pillaged; forget even the bet on the Togruta… The object he held in his hand was a lightsaber – and that meant he was officially now a rich Weequay. A _very_ rich Weequay.

Dorrekk had never personally set foot in any of the mid, inner, or core territories before – but word had traveled far and wide of the fantastic sums of money the new Galactic Empire was paying for the capture of Jedi. The Captain would be able to buy his own _planet_ with the reward money he'd get from turning that thrice-damned Togruta in!

Taking a moment to remember which button he'd keyed before to activate the wondrous device, Dorrekk extinguished the blade with a raspy hiss – then, he practically fell upon his communicator relay, the device still in hand.


	15. Chapter 15

Perhaps as a nod to his feline heritage, Seepurr flitted down the hall the quickest and most stealthily, far surpassing even Graykill's own silent pace – Gar crept along slightly ahead of Graykill, the trio of slaves returning from their clandestine trip.

Under normal circumstances, none of the slaves would have ventured to the portion of the compound they now silently stalked through alone, day or night – however, these were not normal circumstances and desperate times called for desperate measures.

Graykill followed Seepurr and Gar as quickly as he could; the ache in his head made concentration difficult and the ache in his heart at knowing that he would likely not get to see Ashla this night further distracted him. The two slaves ahead passed by a ventilation grate in the wall, not paying it a second glance.

However, it was familiar to Graykill – it was the same place he'd eavesdropped on Brekk and Dorrekk already once or twice before, and he now heard a familiar voice inside that taught and animated with excitement in a way he'd never heard it. Pausing, Graykill stopped, going cold inside.

Like the other pirates, Dorrekk should not have been up at this hour, Graykill realized. Moreover, he sounded very animated by the tone of his voice – not at all like Graykill had hoped he would sound like. Puzzled by what could have the Captain so excited, the young man listened closer.

"…Listen, mate, if this ent enough proof that damnable Togruta's a bloody Jedi, then I bloody well don't know what is." Dorrekk snarled in acute irritation at someone – before Graykill could fully grasp the significance of the statement, the raspy hum of an energy weapon being activated filtered down the shaft, and the young man's eyes went wide in shock.

Dorrekk could only be referring to one person – one Togruta – in the entire compound, and the startling revelation froze Graykill on spot. Ice flooded his veins, and the pit of his stomach dropped out.

 _He has to be mistaken… Weren't all the Jedi wiped out for some reason?_ Graykill protested helplessly, horrified by the development.

As the result of a childhood spent growing up in the furthest reaches of the outer rim, Graykill had been far removed from the events of the clone wars; even now, most of the affairs of the core worlds seemed like an abstract concept to a slave such as he – most, save one: even he had heard of the fall of the borderline-mythic Jedi Order.

A voice responded to Dorrekk's proclamation, and the blade hissed off. The speaker's words were distorted and staticky, likely from the unfathomable lengths the speaker's signal was being transmitted across – whoever it was must have been far, far away from here. However, the accent the stranger used was the crisply formal, haughty, and authoritative tone of someone from what Graykill guessed was likely a military official or some other government noble – likely a core-worlder.

"Nevermind that!" Dorrekk snapped, in response to the core-worlder's statement. "I showed ya tha bloody weapon, and the wench's sittin' in 'er cell brain-addled with a neural collar on. She should be a bloody vegetable – _you_ let _me_ worry about things around 'ere. You just bloody well be righty tighty with tha fakkin' bounty payoff, Quay damn ya!" Dorrekk snarled at the person he addressed..

A sharp jostle on Graykill's shoulders startled him badly – he snapped his head up to Gar, who regarded him with an expression of questioning and concern; farther up the way, Seepurr hesitated, looking back at the two of them – he raised a hand in a questioning gesture.

"–take care of the little rotters. I'll kill every last one of them if I 'ave to. Now, you're wasting my bloody time; are ya gonna pay up, or should I just kill the little wench right 'ere and now?!" Dorrekk challenged. The response was unintelligible, but immediate, and very tense – whoever was on the other end of the line clearly did not want that to happen, and Graykill knew in the pit of his stomach then that she would face a worse fate than death if she was sold to whoever Dorrekk was speaking to.

The Pirate Leader let out a baying, greedy laugh. "Fan-fakkin'-tastic mate! Glad ya can bloody well see reason." He said, thumping a hand spiritedly against the relay for emphasis by the sound of it. "You send your lads down here to come and get this blasted creature off me; I've got some loose ends to tie up, but things'll be proper well handled by the time ya bloody get 'ere. Out!" Dorrekk trilled, evidently terminating the transmission.

Graykill went cold inside – he looked up at Gar, who seemed confused; Seepurr returned. "What's the hold up––?" He demanded in a harsh whisper.

"We're going to have to move up the time-table for our escape. We can't afford to wait any longer." Graykill said, almost immediately.

"What? Why? What did you hear?" Seepurr asked, frowning darkly at the statement.

"Dorrekk is planning to sell that Togruta to somebody – somebody important. I don't think we want to be here when they show up to make the buy." Graykill said, nervously.

" _Buy_ her?" Gar repeated, reluctantly. 

He and Seepurr both exchanged pained glances, and then looked at Graykill, whose eyes narrowed.

"Don't even think about suggesting it." Graykill warned, through gritted teeth, realizing what the two were thinking of suggesting before they even said it.

"You're being unreasonable, Gray – we still haven't taken into account any other 'incidental' problems we've overlooked. Think of the needs of the many! Is it fair to jeopardize all of our chances at freedom just to save hers?" Gar whispered pleadingly.

"It is, when this entire scheme was _mine_ from the start!" Graykill snapped in a rising tone, until both shushed him sharply.

"Correction: It _was_ , human boy." Seepurr protested, sourly. "It was certainly thoughtful of you to never mention your plans at all until we dragged them out of you – but then again, you must have known these pirates might kill us as punishment for your antics! If you were so quick to throw us to the Kath hounds for her, it's only fair we be ready to do the same!" The Cathar accused.

"That's beside the point. Several of you have been here longer than I have and none of you have ever even _tried_ to escape! It's not my fault that you didn't!" Graykill retorted hotly in helpless frustration.

"We–" Seepurr began, until Gar clamped hands firmly over both of their mouths, startling them.

"Quiet! _Both_ of you! Or you'll get us _ALL_ killed and make the point moot!" Gar hissed at them, furiously.

The pair accepted the admonishment, but Graykill was the first to speak again.

"Look," Graykill whispered, turning to Gar, " _You_ heard what Captain Dorrekk said: He wanted to tie up all his 'loose ends'. And, he sounds like he stands to make a lot of money off of this prisoner. Do you really think he's really going to really need us when he gets it? He's the worst cutthroat of his entire crew!" Graykill demanded.

Seepurr frowned in disbelief, glancing up at Gar, who blew a resigned sigh. "…No. He probably won't." The older human replied, shaking his head.

Gar's change of heart visibly swayed the Seepurr's previously firm stance; he seemed much less sure of himself now.

"…Then at the very least, if we _must_ move our timetable up, I don't think we should involve the Togruta." Seeppurr whispered – likely expecting and watching for the movement, Gar caught Graykill's fist as the young man raised it to catch the Cathar in the chin with a sucker punch.

"Stop it! Now's not the time to start in-fighting!" Gar said, twisting Graykill's arm behind his back and holding it there – although the young man gave a token struggle, Graykill still felt unwell from the blow to his head; Gar's grip might as well have been iron.

"Look, Gray, he's not wrong. If she's as valuable as Dorrekk thinks she is, she's going to be the only thing he cares about. If we bring her _with_ us on any escape attempt we make, that's only going to cause him to want to hunt us down even _more_ aggressively than ever before!" Gar said, only finally releasing Graykill when the lad stopped struggling – though grim, the logic was coldly unassailable.

However, this time, it was not Seepurr Graykill directed his aggression at – he stomped hard on Gar's foot, elbowed the man in the stomach, and then finally face when he doubled over; the older man wordlessly trying to stifle the shouts of pain as Graykill drove his clenched hand into Gar's face.

A silent scuffle filled the deserted, darkened hallway for a moment between the three, until first Seepurr and then Gar easily overpowered Graykill and held him fast. The Cathar extended the claws in his fingers with an audible pop, and clenched Graykill's throat tightly. "Stop this! _Now!_ " Seepurr hissed savagely, as Gar held his legs down; the tips of them bit into Graykill's skin painfully.

Indignant rage flooded Graykill – he felt a trickle of warmth run down his neck and behind his ear, where one of Seepurr's claws had evidently nicked his skin; as he lay there a victim of their combined might, Graykill saw his dreams of escape beginning to go up in flames.

"You're being unreasonable about all of this!" Seepurr spat. "You still have a chance to save _yourself_ at least; the Galaxy is full of other Togruta, if that's your particular dementia. Stop fixating on this one and you can maybe find a whole nest of them someday to treat as a harem for all I care! Don't make me kill you, human!" The Cathar spat, thoroughly scandalizing Graykill.

It had been precisely the wrong thing to say – Graykill seized Seepurr's wrists in his fists, and squeezed; although Graykill had never truly hated anyone in his life until that moment, he felt a white-hot surge of loathing for the Cathar fill him. "Do it!" Graykill challenged, staring the Seepurr in his feline eyes – they blinked in complete bewilderment.

"What?" Seepurr croaked in shock – though his fingers remained around Graykill's neck, they actually loosened somewhat as the Cathar blinked in complete bewilderment.

"I said _do it_!" Graykill whispered back, savagely; in spite of himself, Seepurr blinked in bewilderment at the fanatical determination he beheld in the young human's own eyes.

"Kill me! If you care that much, then _do it_ , _but look me in my eyes while you do_!" The young man hissed savagely, crushing Seepurr's wrists in his own grip. "You'd better die in the escape attempt, because if you don't, then I hope my face will haunt every moment of your free existence the minute you make it out of here!" Graykill snarled, feeling his skin prickle and flush with heat.

Seepurr glanced up nervously at Gar, who only stared back, shaken – the cold, fatalistic determination in Graykill's tone had rattled both of them, and thoroughly.

A tremble had taken up in Seepurr's hands, that radiated upward to Graykill's clenched fists; evidently more bluster than bite, Seepurr looked to Gar for support… And found none. It was his own claws wrapped around Graykill's throat – Gar made no move to join him.

"If you're going to save yourselves then you'll do it without me, because I'm _not_ ––!" Graykill began to say, when the roar of a firecracker-like string of pops washed over the three of them.

Even from this distance, the blasts were nearly deafening, and they all originated from the direction the three slaves had just returned from – both Gar and Seepurr gasped audibly in the seemly deafening silence that followed; Graykill's eyes merely narrowed to slits even as he glanced back down the hallway from his position on the ground.

"H-he… He just detonated all of our ankle devices!" Seepurr gasped, realizing that Dorrekk had evidently meant every word of his promise to dispose of 'unwanted baggage'; immediately, the hallway went pitch black as the compound's electrical generators exploded – red flashing emergency lights came on, along with a plaintive warning siren.

Before anyone could think of saying anything else, a series of even louder explosions forceful enough to shake the floor and walls and badly startle the three sounded on the heels of the destruction of the string of ankle devices, and this time even the emergency backup lights and siren went dead.

 _It worked,_ Graykill thought absently; his plan to use the reactivated ankle devices as sabotage charges to destroy the power generator had _worked_ – together they wouldn't have harmed the air defense turret outside; now however, the thing would be a lawn ornament without power of any kind to function anymore.

Unintentionally, Seepurr and Gar fully relaxed their grip on Graykill's throat – the young human did as well, silently feeling his way up Seepurr's arm in the dark until his open hand pressed gently against the Cathar's face.

"What are you–?" Seepurr began to ask, when Graykill curled his hand into a fist and brought it crashing into the Cathar's nose with as much force as he could muster. The satisfaction of a splatter of hot liquid across Graykill's face and the crunch of bone under knuckle cooled the smoldering embers of rage within him – slightly.

" _I told you he would dispose of us!_ " Graykill snarled in righteous fury; Seepurr's hands started to clench around Graykill's neck – then the weight was driven from him as Gar bodily restrained the infuriated Cathar.

"Stop it! The two of you!" Gar snapped at the two of them, no longer bothering to whisper as much. "We're wasting time at each other's throats – Seepurr, it looks like Gray was right. We have no choice but to move up our timetable now – Dorrekk will figure out what happened any second and the clock is already ticking; we can argue later when we're free! _Let's move_!" The man said.

Graykill wiped what was surely Seepurr's blood from his face with a hand. Though his neck throbbed from the pressure of the cat-man's grip, he sat up – as the darkness of the hallway hid the three slaves, it also hid the bleak but utterly saucy grin on Graykill's face.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Ahsoka was startled by the rumble of explosions – they were distant, and not particularly powerful, but there were several and they were unmistakable; she held her breath for a tense moment, straining her montrals to listen for the sounds of blaster-fire or something that would indicate battle was being done elsewhere in the complex.

 _I've been sent to tell you to be ready for the signal to escape – it'll hopefully be soon._ The Twi'lek's words from earlier resonated clearly in Ahsoka's head.

Were the explosions the signal? Why _this_ soon? Had something gone wrong?

Instantly, the urge to begin her breakout flooded Ahsoka, along with the desire to be reunited with Graykill, if he yet lived – however, the discipline hammered into her from years of being a battlefield commander rooted Ahsoka firmly to the spot. _I have to wait for––_ Ahsoka began to say to herself.

What few lights illuminated the prisoner hold flickered off, momentarily bathing the Togruta in darkness – the power was out. A moment later, red emergency lights within the hold switched on, casting the place into an eerie shade of shadowy red; in the distance, alarms began to blare – Ahsoka started to rise. Was _that_ the signal?

The thunderous boom of a _far_ louder, far more powerful explosion sent tremors that even Ahsoka could feel through the floor of the bay and the cage – the emergency lights went black, and the alarms ceased abruptly, signifying the facility was completely dead.

 _T HAT… That was definitely the signal!_ Ahsoka realized gleefully, pausing to take a few moments to concentrate, orienting her thoughts and focusing them on her command of the force.

The metal case containing her Shoto – the shorter off-handed lightsaber of her twin blades – which had been hidden behind some crates, flew to her hand. Even with the single smaller blade, it would be more than enough to hold her own. Ahsoka concentrated harder.

The device began to rattle and strain in her hands as raw telekinetic power began to twist it – lacking the tools or the time to formally disassemble it, the Togruta threw her will against the insides of the case; in seconds flat, the metal was seemingly torn apart by unseen hands, leaving behind the Shoto's hilt floating in the air, untouched and ready for battle.

Ahsoka's hand clutched around the newly freed blade only a moment later – she kissed the grip, and ignited it, grinning from Lekku to Lekku as the blade sprouted forth with a familiar hum and bathed her face and eyes in its silvery white light.

 _Okay – let's see how long these Pirates last against someone who can fight back._ Ahsoka thought maliciously, turning her gaze toward the bars of her prison – in the thrilling rush of the anticipation of battle, Master Plo's words from earlier faded to nothingness in the back of her mind.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Graykill and Seepurr stood, Gar between them, in the dark a moment later – before Gar could speak, Graykill himself spoke up.

"You two – get back to the pen, and make sure the others are able to escape!" Graykill said to Seepurr and Gar – they paused, evidently so surprised by the command that even Seepurr forgot to repay the human's attack with another in kind.

"Where are you going?" The Cathar asked, cautiously.

"I'm going to try and find Ashla. She doesn't know her way around this place like we do, and we don't have the time to sit and wait for her to show up." Graykill responded, starting off.

"What about the Pirates?" Seepurr demanded, following along.

"Loorpa and I took care of as many of the Pirates as we could. We used some cleaning chemicals to drug the evening meal so that Twi'la would have the best chance of delivering the weapon, and the three of us planting the devices – but now, it looks like we'll be using it to make our escape easier!" Graykill responded.

"Are you sure? Dorrekk wasn't asleep!" Gar responded, tensely.

"Then he probably didn't eat anything we made," Graykill explained, "Which means he and any other pirate that didn't either could still be really dangerous. Make sure the others know – get to the landing pad as quickly as possible, and sneak aboard if you can, but above all, _keep Gian alive_!" Graykill ordered.

"And you?" Seepurr asked, hesitantly.

"Ashla and I will meet rest of you at the landing pad as soon as I find her. Count on it!" Graykill said.

"Good luck then – we'll see you there." Gar said, then raced to catch up with Seepurr as he went down a separate corridor, leaving Graykill alone to creep through the blackened pirate base.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Dorrekk snarled every curse he knew, then strung them together to combine new ones even more horrible than before – the darkness that pervaded the base filled his personal quarters as well.

 _The slaves!_ Dorrekk thought savagely, punching his fist into a metal wall and doing nothing more than bruising his knuckles. The blasts of their ankle devices had even coincided almost perfectly with the explosion of the haven's power generators; unless they had died in the explosions, then that meant the treacherous vermin had succeeded in removing the explosive ankle-devices that had been secured to them; inwardly, this made the Captain a little nervous.

The implications for how they had done such a thing was unsettling; looking back across the events of the past week, Dorrekk began to wonder at how much of the mayhem that had been caused within the last days had truly been the result of one or more of the slaves, the Togruta, or both.

Where he was going, Dorrekk wouldn't need these pitiful, raggedy, miserable wretched excuses for slaves to serve him; that logic had driven him to decide to dispose of all of them – or so he thought. However, he hadn't counted on being sealed inside his own quarters, unable to do anything including call for help. It didn't help that the situation would likely be repeated throughout the base, effectively trapping most of the others inside rooms sealed with mag-locked doors.

Recovering from the nasty surprise of being trapped, Dorrekk tried the door to his quarters and confirmed that it wouldn't work; it had been shut and locked for privacy when he'd made his call, and now that the power failed with he lock still engaged, it may as well have become as solid as a wall for all practical purposes.

Undeterred much, the Pirate Captain pushed and strained – the Weequay's muscles, stronger than those of a human, rippled as he strained with the desperation of survival; however, door budged only a finger's breadth, and then seemed to wedge shut, as if to remind him he were well and truly trapped – not even he with his considerable might could get it to do much more than flex a little. Dorrekk's mind began to work, trying to stave off panic with scheming – he settled down to think.

If he and the others could only get to the Togruta's cell, he could undoubtedly drag her to the ship and make it off this stale, miserable rock, and live like kings for a long while… However, a thought struck him then.

…If Dorrekk was able to figure out how to get out of the room by _himself_ , he could drag her to the ship and escape – and to the nether regions with splitting his haul with the rest of the crew! They had caused him enough grief already; he could live like a king for the rest of his entire life, and they could all rot!

The plan was tantalizing – that made the door frustrate Dorrekk even more. In livid distress, he drew his blaster pistol and fired a series of shots into the door – each shot boiled a little of the metal away, but aside from carbon scoring the door black and making Dorrekk's ears ring, it did little good; even with the energy cell capacity of a blaster, he'd run out of ammunition before he carved a hole out big enough to escape through.

 _Carved a hole!_ The thought resonated within Dorrekk's mind.

Dorrekk grasped at the heavy weight in his pocket – his hand clasped around the lightsaber hilt; extracting it carefully, he studied it by feel in the dark, remembering the damage it had done to his would-be assassin just earlier, now laying in pieces on either side of the door. Grinning and searching for the from before, his finger found it. Holding it out, Dorrekk pressed it; the effect was immediate.

The beam of vibrant white eschewed from the tip of the hilt piercing right through the door almost effortlessly, startling Dorrekk with how it seemed to atomize its way right through the heavy reinforced door in the blink of an eye.

Dorrekk withdrew it, and experimented for a moment, pressing the saber against various objects and fixtures in the office – not a single one of them withstood the beam's phenomenal cutting power for even a second, some burning away almost instantaneously.

A wide grin spread across Dorrekk's face – the Jedi would undoubtedly fetch a tremendous bounty with the weapon as proof of her heritage, but damn her _eyeballs_ , this thing was useful! And fun to mess with too; he'd had plenty of practice with an ordinary vibroblade before; it probably wouldn't be all that difficult to adjust to using this thing.

The beam emitted its resonant hum quietly – Dorrekk stabbed it through the door and again the blade melted completely through with a raspy grind. The stink of Ozone and superheated metal assaulted the Pirate Captain's senses – as well as heat. Though the blade itself emitted no warmth, the metal it liquefied certainly did; Dorrekk recoiled his hand sharply – despite having thick and leathery skin, he nearly pushed he blade through so quickly he almost scalded himself on the melting door.

Grasping it more purposefully like a vibro-sword, Dorrekk guided the blade through the door, carving a giant hole he could easily step through in just seconds; deactivating the lightsaber and giving it a rewarding pat, he replaced it in is pocket, kicked out the panel he carved in the door, and stepped free.

 _Now then… Where the bloody 'ell's that damned Togruta slag!?_

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Already unpleasant normally, the pirate compound took on a eerie grimness in which nothing stirred; with its normal compliment of pirates already greatly reduced by Graykill's skulduggery, there had already been a marked decrease in the sounds of drunken rambling, arguments, gambling laughter, and conversation echoing through the halls.

However, with the survivors drugged, things were especially silent; the destruction of the power generators meant that not even the vents and other systems could be counted on to fill the air with their normal droning buzz – the air itself remained still and stale like the inside of someone's tomb.

The pounding of a door in the distance echoed – evidently at least one or two pirates had not partaken of Graykill's 'special' recipe, but it didn't sound like they would be much trouble… At least, Graykill hoped they wouldn't. It was a pity that he couldn't have foreseen the explosion, or he might have tried to actually poison them all instead of drug them instead.

Silently stealing along, his normally quiet footfalls seemed to become increasingly loud – his heart pounded in his ears; in the silence, a Pirate would probably easily be able to hear them if they remained still – _and if they catch me out here, I'm dead for sure…_ Graykill thought. The fact that he had Dorrekk awake for sure, and therefore automatically at risk of ruining the escape plans only put the young man increasingly on edge.

The footsteps grew increasingly loud – suddenly, Graykill was aware that it wasn't his own footsteps making so much noise after all, and though he had trouble hearing them over the pounding in his ears, he knew he'd left Seepurr, Gar, and the other slaves far behind.

Graykill froze – the footsteps slowed immediately, as if the other person grew suspicious that they weren't alone as well; there was nowhere to run. If it was Dorrekk or one of the other pirates, they'd blast him in the spine; the footsteps began to shuffle closer, picking up speed.

Graykill swung.

The enemy combatant recoiled – Graykill felt the rush of air as the leading tip of his knuckle just barely grazed something in the dark. A harsh fist was driven into his gut; the blow, impeccably aimed, hit him in the diaphragm and blasted the air from his lungs.

Something pressed into his throat – the tip of a blaster, or the tip of Dorrekk's captured lightsaber.

 _No._

In spite of the fact that he still could not draw air back into his lungs, Graykill seized hold of the gentle fantasy of Ahsoka wrapped in his arms, letting it fill him with resolve in an instant – he would not go down without a fight. Reacting purely on instinct, Graykill recoiled from the tip of the weapon while flailing with his free hand.

The blow barely served to knock the incredibly solid arm away from him maybe an inch – then the lightsaber blasted into existence, just a hair's breadth away from where his neck had been an instant earlier; strangely, this close, it almost seemed beautiful – with its silver color, Graykill was reminded of the twinkle of a bright star flickering in the night sky.

Already in motion again, Graykill took another desperate swing – this time however, his foe was prepared for it. In an instant, with speed that defied even the terrified slave's comprehension, the hand gripping the lightsaber's hilt shifted just so – the other hand grasped his wrist… Before the move was even completed, Graykill realized then that the grapple was the precise counter to a clumsy swing such as his.

The fear that he was dead prompted Graykill to finally gasp again in horror and anticipation – with seemingly no effort at all, his foe shifted expertly, using his weight and momentum against him to flip him up and over, so that he felt himself whirl through the air in one swift, deadly motion.

The metal floor that Graykill had likely scrubbed so many times before slammed into his back as he was practically body-slammed forcefully into the deck, blasting the single breath of air he'd gotten back out of his lungs again, stunning him completely and knocking the fight out of him for good.

Still in motion, like a graceful dancer whose moves seemed otherworldly, the wielder of the lightsaber brought the blade up again – the shine of the light flashed and swirled with the whirl of the blade; Graykill saw brilliant orange skin, and strikingly colored white and blue-striped montrals.

The fury of a God played out across Ashla's face – maneuvering the incredibly heavy blade as if it were as insubstantial as a twirling baton through her fingers, the glow of the blade finally illuminated them both; Graykill beheld her striking eyes, glowing with fiery rage and burning like the blade whose light they reflected.

The Togruta finished the single fluid maneuver with all the grace of having practiced the maneuver more times than Graykill could possibly fathom; her normally beautiful face was tightened into an ugly grimace, and it struck fear into the young man's heart: Graykill belatedly realized the Togruta was operating purely on reflex – as she brought the blade down, the shining point of the blade speeding for his chest, only then did she see his face in the blade light; their eyes met.


	16. Chapter 16

It was only Ahsoka's finely honed, lightning quick Jedi reflexes that saved her from catching a clumsily aimed but still substantial blow across the cheek – immediately, she flushed with an inner heat that seized her so quickly she hardly knew what had happened.

Starvation.

Dehydration.

Beatings.

Cruelty.

Slavery.

The days of physical abuse at the hands of the Weequay pirates, the terrible toll that deprivation had taken on her body, the terrible ache of beatings, mistreatment, the neural collar, the being left to hang on the wall in shackles… All of it had quietly simmered within the Togruta.

Mixed with the despair of wallowing in the loss of Ahsoka's old way of life, the betrayal she'd felt by her friend and master, at still somehow feeling each of their deaths keenly as they died one by one, and the utter, complete, bitter loneliness she felt thereafter…

The constant mental breakdown mated with the physical torment had finally worn away the last of Ahsoka's tattered spirit; the birth of an anger as crisp and clear as Ahsoka felt only once before in Mortis, the realm of the Force itself, began to burn clearly within her.

This Pirate could interfere with her escape plans, if he hadn't already. His very existence was a threat to Graykill – the only friendly face Ahsoka had left to look into in the entire Galaxy.

He was going to die.

Ahsoka's sharp teeth gritted together – a grunt of furious exertion propelled her clenched fist into her foe's midsection even as she shifted to bring her deadliest weapon to bear.

 _ **VSSSWSHHHH!**_

However, to Ahsoka's surprise, there was a swift movement in the dark – a hand struck against her forearm barely budged it; even so, it was just enough that she missed the killing blow.

 _Just **die** , already!_ Ahsoka thought, gritting her teeth – she had slaves to help free, and the longer she stayed here, the greater the chance Graykill and the others stood of running afoul of any surviving Pirates elsewhere in the base.

Not willing to underestimate her foe, Ahsoka moved to end the fight quickly – lending herself fully into battle concentration, she spotted the incoming fist easily; she knew exactly how to counter such a blow.

The Togruta executed the counter with flawless precision – one corner of Ahsoka's mouth upturned waspishly, as she expected to be greeted with the stench of vaporized flesh.

Graykill's eyes flashed in the light of the blade – the glow illuminated his features as the tip of the blade sped for him like a ship existing hyperspace; their gazes met.

The blade slammed home – paralyzed, either in shock or more likely from the fact that it was Ahsoka standing over him, Graykill remained speechless – the only noise between them was the hum of the blade, and the rasp of it atomizing its way through the metal floor beneath him.

"Ah… Ashla?" Graykill rasped, fighting to speak; Ahsoka's heart stopped.

His gaze shifted to the blade burning beside his right cheek – it had missed him by a finger's breadth, redirected at the last moment past his face and into the floor by a lightning quick roll of the wrist.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Winded a second time, it took a few moments for Graykill to suck in his breath – the Blade hummed in his ear noisily, and the stink of the melting metal mixed with burning hair as some of the longest of his short-cropped hair strayed into the beam and scorched away.

In the instant it took Ashla to realize what she was about to do, Graykill witnessed hell itself embodied on her face – it made his blood run cold.

"Ah… Ashla?" He wheezed, coughing; the blade disappeared with an oily rasp, bathing the two of them in darkness again.

A fairly loud metallic thunk from somewhere beside him, signaled the dropping of the weapon from her hands; though he couldn't see her face anymore, Graykill realized she was probably sick – sick at what she had very nearly done.

For a moment, Graykill steadied his breathing again, unable to suppress a moan as he shifted slightly; she was deceptively strong – he'd been thrown to the ground like a rag-doll.

"G-g…" Ashla tried to croak, but seemed hardly able to speak the words – forcing himself up onto one side, spots began to swim through Graykill's vision; the metal deck still glowed bright orange where the beam had burnt its way through.

"Ashla… Is that you?" Graykill asked, after a moment – there was a wet sniffle in the dark beside him.

"I'm _so_ sorry, Graykill…!" Ashla whimpered in a strangled, cracking voice – it seemed so completely at odds with the wicked fury he'd just seen that had twisted her otherwise beautiful round features into a predatory and murderous glare.

"Ashla…" Graykill said, feeling around in the dark for a moment and finding her blade – he fumbled with it for several moments in the dark, locating the button he was looking for.

The blade sprang to life with its distinctive rasp – Ashla stiffened slightly, as Graykill held it up beside her face; gently, almost comfortingly, the young man used the side of his index finger to push her chin up so that she reluctantly met his gaze.

"Graykill, I'm…" She said, then trailed off quietly, realizing he was distracted.

Unless it had been fear, a trick of the whirling blade's flickering light, or something else… Graykill could have sworn he'd seen a Togruta with yellow and red eyes than the familiar, gentle sapphire ones before him now.

"…I…" He stammered – the blade hummed quietly as he continued to use it as a lantern; her skin remained the same attractive shade of terracotta he'd grown to fancy over the past days, and not the pallid, sallow, death-like color the young man could have sworn he saw moments ago.

Though it was obvious by the expression on her face, Ashla wanted to say something; however, that same crushed expression made it clear that she was terrified of what his next response would be.

Fumbling the saber off, there was silence for a moment – in spite of whatever Graykill may have felt about what she'd nearly done to him just now, his mind still burned with the image of the honest grief plain on her face.

She jolted with a start as he wrapped his arms tightly around her – then as if she could hardly believe her luck, she hugged him back harder, the two of them sitting there for moment trembling together.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"I… I'm so glad to see you. _You_." Graykill said – had Ahsoka's thoughts been more organized, she might have detected the emphasis he'd placed on the repeated word.

Instead, the utterly horrified Togruta sat, numbed, unable or perhaps unwilling to believe what she had very nearly just done.

 _You are falling, Padawan Tano!_

Master Koon's words from before echoed loudly in Ahsoka's mind – the mental image of the saber diving for Graykill still replayed vividly right before her mind's eye.

 _You gave in to your wickedness for an instant, and it was very nearly your own undoing. Resist it! Resist the allure of the dark side! Master Plo was right – I'm slipping… And I shouldn't be! I was taught better than this!_ Ahsoka thought to herself, almost in a blind panic – her stomach churned freely.

Interrupting her thoughts, Gray squeezed hugged her tightly – in spite of what had nearly happened, he seemed only relieved to see her

"Likewise. Are you okay? I mean really okay?" She asked shakily.

"Yeah – I'm here. And I'm all right." Graykill said; cold relief flooded through the Togruta.

In spite of the respite, a nagging doubt cropped up in Ahsoka's mind, persistent and unsettling – Ahsoka drew back, aware that she might teeter on a razor's edge between devastation again.

"Do… Do you know what I am? What this is?" Ahsoka asked shakily, wondering if he knew about lightsabers and the connotations behind them – the wait for his next words seemed interminable.

"…You're a Jedi, right? One of the most wanted sentients in the Galaxy?" Graykill asked – Ahsoka felt a weight build in her stomach like a neutron star; _here it comes…_ She thought.

"I overheard Captain Dorrekk – he's figured it out. He has your other saber, I saw it myself – we're all in extreme danger; he called someone. Someone really far away, probably from one of the inner rim territories – I think your secret is out. Whoever he called wants you, and is coming here!" Graykill said.

The news was extremely bad – terrible. Each time someone discovered her true past, it ate away at Ahsoka a little more, like hearing her own death sentence being read aloud, but not the date – knowing that she was living on borrowed time everywhere she went. However, as bad as that news was, it was not the response she had been expecting or wanting to hear.

"May… Maybe…" The Togruta stammered; Ahsoka's mind – perfectly trained and open to the mysteries of the force as it was – failed her, going blank.

Barring a human named Lux Bonterri – which hardly counted, considering she had still been a fully fledged Jedi the times they'd spent together – this was the first time in Ahsoka's entire life that she'd ever had to face the idea of love, and more importantly, failed love. The pain, the anxiety, and the confusion were wreaking even more havoc on her already ravaged mental state; _No wonder the Jedi order had prohibitions against it,_ Ahsoka thought, bleakly.

"What's the matter?" Graykill asked, an edge in his voice.

"Maybe… You should go. I'll… I'll find a different way off the installation." Ahsoka choked out; a stunned silence from Graykill made it easier for the Togruta to make the hard decision she knew she must. "My… My problems are my own to deal with. I'll… Help you get to the ship. But I can't bring you down with me – the price on my head isn't your problem to deal with."

In spite of herself, Ahsoka couldn't help but break down a little at the very end – however, Graykill was there. "No." He said, calmly.

"You're coming with us. Or I'll go with you." Graykill said, quietly. "If… If that's what you're worried about… Then don't. Bad things happen to good people all the time; I could have died a bunch of times already helping you, and it wouldn't have bothered me a bit, because it's the right thin to do. After all this, I won't be afraid of sticking around – especially not after we're free." Graykill said, drawing her in again – Ahsoka's eyes stung; she hardly had the moisture left in her body to create tears anymore.

Again, Ahsoka's mind went blank – with an assurance like that, there really didn't seem to be anything left to say… And yet, something was missing. The Togruta realized at the same time she was forgetting something. Something she'd seen others do dozens of times.

Graykill did not shy away when she pressed her lips against his in the dark, nor did he fail to match her passion in the heat of the moment.

It was a moment Ahsoka would have wanted to last forever – a year ago, a lifetime ago, Ahsoka Tano the Padawan Jedi would have never believed she'd be here, experiencing her first kiss…

And yet, as the grief died away and left her with a complete giddiness she'd never known before, unfortunately, Ahsoka realized that the monumental first experience would have to be cut short – very short, given the circumstances. They still had an escape to attempt.

No matter. Though circumstances interfered with the full enjoyment of Ahsoka's first kiss, it would be a memory she'd treasure forever – and, there would of course be time for other, far more intimate 'firsts' later on.

…Ahsoka felt her skin flush so strongly she thought she might glow blue in the dark.

Perhaps as aware of their vulnerable predicament as she, Graykill seemed to break on cue, as breathless as she – the Togruta's lips still tingled from the experience.

He pressed his forehead against hers for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

"There… There's a ship outside that need to take to get out of here. If Captain Dorrekk gets free, it's undoubtedly going to be his first stop." Graykill said, handing the Togruta back her lightsaber and helping her stand up.

In spite of the fact that it was back to business now, Ahsoka still felt the first true smile tug at the corners of her mouth that she could remember in forever.

"Lead the way!" She responded, immediately.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

The pair emerged onto an otherwise deserted landing zone – the doors to the interior of the complex hung open, revealing the blackened corridors leading further into the pirate compound.

"…Where is everyone?" Ahsoka asked nervously, glancing around the deserted courtyard that served as the pirate shuttle's landing pad; the shuttle itself sat dark, silent.

"Oh no…" Graykill said, nervously – Gar and the others should have been here by now. "Something's gone wrong – the rest of the slaves… I think they must still be trapped in the slave pen. The facility shut-down must have trapped them inside – we have to go back for them!" Graykill said.

Ahsoka hesitated for a moment – time was of the essence; the ship sat right before them. However, the mental image of Graykill staring up at the lightsaber crashing down to meet him flashed clearly through the Togruta's mind again – she shivered. _I was taught better than to abandon others._ Ahsoka told herself stubbornly, pushing away the selfish desire to flee there and then.

"Do you know the way back? We can go and rescue them too if we can." Ahsoka volunteered; Graykill winced, clearly unhappy about something as he glanced more closely at the shuttle.

"It would take too long if we headed back, and we may already be dangerously close to being out of time…" Graykill said, unhappily; Ahsoka chewed her lip – in spite of her fear of the dark side, hearing Graykill make their decision for them filled her with a sense of relief.

However, as she prepared to take a step toward the ship, Graykill turned to her.

"The ship needs to be prepped for take-off. I've been forced to do help them do it enough times to have a vague idea of what to do so I can do it myself – if I gave you some directions, do you think you could head back and check to see if they're there? You'd stand a much better chance of holding your own with that thing than I would if they ran into trouble!" Graykill asked.

Ahsoka paused – hesitantly, she considered the ship sitting there in front of them; freedom was so very close at hand.

 _Stay true to yourself, Ahsoka. No matter what happens, never give into the Dark side._

The words made the Togruta flinch inwardly – she nodded.

"Here." Graykill said, tipping over a nearby crate onto the floor and sifting through the contents for a moment – attempting to activate several different devices without success, he finally seized what looked like a blow-torch with a light bulb instead of a burner tip, and clicked it on. At once, an extremely bright warm light flashed on; Ahsoka squinted against it.

"You'll need this to find your way around in the dark. It'll help you go and come as quickly as you can." He said, pressing the device into her hand.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Captain Dorrekk paced quietly through the halls, alert for any possible sign that he was not alone in the dark halls – he knew he wouldn't be forever.

The Pirate Captain had smashed his shins into the door that normally lead into the prison hold – what was left of it. Someone inside had cut their way through so recently as to leave behind metal that was still hot to the touch.

 _She's loose…_ Dorrekk reminded himself – his stomach roiled with anger and hatred for the troublesome, dangerous Togruta. It was bad enough that she was a Jedi – but now, she was free, and running loose through the compound.

So it was with ample caution that the Weequay quietly picked his way through the blackened compound with care – if he were in her shoes, Dorrekk knew the first thing she'd try to gain would be the courtyard, and the ship parked there.

 _Over me dead, rottin' carcass, love._ Dorrekk thought, feeling a cruel pang of amusement to himself as he quietly filed along a side-corridor that would open to the main hall leading to the landing zone.

It was as Dorrekk neared the corner that he suddenly became aware of a light – silently ducking for cover behind a bulkhead, Dorrekk peering around it intently for a moment.

The light bobbed down the hallway for several moments. The focused direction of the beam meant that Dorrekk couldn't see the wielder clearly – not one to take chances with his own life, the Captain ducked fully behind the bulkhead. Light washed down his hallway, shining right past him as the wielder of the light shone it in his direction.

Swallowing, Dorrekk tightened his grip, hoping that perhaps it was just a slave – the light vanished a moment later, allowing Dorrekk to peek around the bulkhead cautiously.

The Pirate Captain realized nervously, as the light turned and shone down a corridor opposite him, and then finally to the corridor directly ahead of the individual – _It's the bloody Jedi! None of the slaves would be wandering this place lost, even in the dark!_ The Weequay realized.

The light focused on one of the corridors at the four-way intersection – it was not Dorrekk's. The Weequay breathed a silent breath of relief. _C'mon ya rotten slag… Keep going… That's a girl…_ Dorrekk thought to himself, as the barely illuminated figure continued jogging through the hallway, disappearing from sight just a moment later.

 _She was comin' from the bleedin' landing zone… She must be after the slaves… Which means they're all after me bloody ship!_ Dorrekk realized nervously; in spite of himself, his hand closed tightly around her saber – if she was a Jedi, that meant she was probably after the slaves… And when she found them, she'd be looking for her saber next.

 _Oi gotta get the bloody hell outta this fetid rubbish pit before that tentacle-headed harpy comes back!_ He thought, suddenly feeling an edge of keen desperation – in spite of his own skill with a vibroblade, he'd only had this lightsaber for a very short while; Dorrekk didn't at all fancy his chances against someone who'd spent a lifetime training in its usage.

Waiting just a few seconds longer for good measure, Dorrekk immediately began running as quietly as he could for the hallway – turning down the hallway, the light retreated rapidly in the distance; the Captain breathed a sigh of relief, grinning sourly to himself.

However, running down the main corridor to the landing zone wiped the smile from the Pirate Captain's face as he saw one of the slaves – the young human male, most obedient and otherwise well-behaved of all the slaves – hard at work in the courtyard.

Dorrekk's eyes flashed with anger – then glee – as he followed the lad's activities for a moment, as Graykill disconnected the inactive fuel line from the ship.

 _That lousy soft-skinned little tosser's done all the work for me. Best go thank the little pustule._ Dorrek thought, casting a sly glance behind him in the direction the Togruta had headed – it was still dark.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Gar and Seepurr almost jumped out of their skin – and in the Cathar's case, fur – as an incredibly bright beam of light slammed through a sealed door to the rest of the pirate bay nearby.

"It's Dorrekk! He's here to kill us all!" Seepurr hissed frantically at Gar, as the two of them plastered themselves against the stuck door to the slave pen the pair had frantically been trying to get open.

"What's going on out there!?" Twi'la's suddenly nervous voice drifted out to the two slaves from the tiny gap that had formed where they'd budged the door only an inch.

"Someone's cutting through the door and we don't know who it is!" Gar responded, trying futilely to keep the fear out of his voice for the others' sakes.

"Help us!" One of the other slaves inside cried – without another word, the Cathar grabbed the metal scrap bar the two had been using as a crowbar, and slammed it home in the tiny crack that had formed in the door.

In desperation, fingers of different shapes, sizes, amounts, and species appeared in and wedged themselves into the door and pulled – every slave frantically tried to force the door open in a single unified attempt at survival and freedom; Seepurr and Gar both hung their weight from the bar, straining mightily and bracing their feet against the wall from the strain.

The door budged… An inch.

Gar and Seepurr pulled back, staring at the nearly complete circle that had been cut right through the door in the short seconds they had tried to open the door. The stench of burnt metal and ozone mixed with the fear sweat pouring off Gar – Seepurr swallowed.

"Don't leave us!" Twi'la shouted, in absolute terror.

"It's too late!" Gar replied shakily, as the blade finished cutting, then withdrew – the sounds within the slave pen went silent, save for a choked whimper or two.

Seepurr withdrew the bar from the door – in the dim light of the molten metal, the Cathar made eye-contact with Gar; an unspoken thought passed between the two – _This is it_.

The pair shook hands – a solemn farewell – and then Seepurr brandished the bar like a club.

The section of the door that had been cut away fell free as if kicked or pushed by someone far stronger than just an ordinary Togruta – Seepurr spotted a movement in the orange glow of the heated metal.

 _ **VSSSWSHHHH!**_

The saber burst forth, speeding to fill the gap between the wielder and the metal bar Seepurr had swung. In a bright whirling flash, the saber cut through the metal bar not once, but thrice – the third cut slicing off the bar just inches away from Seepurr's hands.

"Hey!" A haggard female voice protested sharply, as a light blinked on and blinded both Seepurr and Gar – the two drew back, glancing at each other in disbelief.

"Are you the slaves I was sent to rescue?" Ahsoka demanded in consternation – she held the blade before her at the ready, watching both slaves for any sign of movement.

"You… You…!" Gar stammered, unable to believe his eyes – both Cathar and Man stared at the naked saber in Ahsoka's hands, as she gingerly stepped through the ring of superheated metal in the cut door, and onto the floor.

Ahsoka hesitated – at a single glance it was plain to see that the equally filthy, emaciated forms of the two sentients before her were slaves; working her jaw once, the Togruta paused – _Easy, Ahsoka. They're freaked out and didn't recognize you. It's not their fault they're scared._ She told herself.

"Do you know Graykill?" Ahsoka asked, hesitantly, changing the subject from the blade to their escape before any further time could be wasted on introductions – in spite of their bewilderment, both slaves stiffened immediately.

"Where is he? Is he with you? Is he okay?" Gar demanded, glancing around – he saw nobody with the Togruta female.

"He's preparing the ship for take-off, but he sent me to come find you – we're not leaving you behind." Ahsoka replied, deactivating her blade and taking a stride close; Gar turned a sharp eye at Seepurr, who seemed to deflate a little under the man's harsh gaze.

"Are you all that's made it?" Ahsoka asked, glancing at the door the two stood in front of.

"No! There are still more of us inside, but we couldn't get the door open. We couldn't get any of the doors open, or we would have met you at the landing pad as planned!" Gar explained, glancing at the saber in Ahsoka's hand.

"Are you able to cut this door open?" Gar asked, pointing at the metal door to the slave pen.

"Easily." Ahsoka replied, approaching it, and then glancing at the crack in the door – the glint of a few terrified eyes inside the door reflected back at her from within, as the utterly terrified occupants stared out at her.

"It's okay!" Ahsoka said, approaching the door. "I'm here to help you – we're all getting out of this dump of a pirate haven. Stand back – stand way back, and get away from the door; I'm going to cut through it here in a second!" Ahsoka asserted.

"It's Ashla! The Togruta! We're okay!" Gar called encouragingly over her shoulder through the door.

"Go ahead!" A voice from somewhere deep inside the room shouted out faintly a moment later; in spite of herself, Ahsoka grinned, as she sparked her blade once more, preparing to slice a hole through the door – in mere moments, the slaves within this door would be free.

Whatever Ahsoka may have felt earlier – doubt, anger, self-pity, hate – all began to bubble away, as she sank the blade into the door for once without imagining it as being one of the Weequay Pirate captors she was liberating herself and all of the slaves from – it felt wonderful to be on the side of justice for the first time in a great while.

As the blade again effortlessly cut into the door and she force-pushed the superheated chunk of metal away, the light from her flashlight shined into the depths of the filthy slave pen, playing off the different beings within – although blinking in the glare of the light, each of their faces nearly as one lit up in unspeakable gratitude, hope, and wonder at the otherwise unremarkable Togruta that stood before them.

The tug of a grin pulled at one corner of Ahsoka's mouth at seeing the unmistakable joy at the prospect of freedom lighting each of their faces up – _It's been too long since I actually did something meaningful than feel sorry for myself,_ Ahsoka thought.

"Come on, all of you. Be careful not to burn yourselves – come with me, and we can all get out of here!" Ahsoka urged.

The former Jedi cherished playing the role of the liberator and the small measure of confidence it brought back with it… But, Ahsoka was exactly that – a former Jedi. She had other things – people other than herself – whose future she cared about, and as the seconds Graykill remained alone dragged on, more and more desperation bled into Ahsoka's tone.

"Come on, all of you! Graykill is at the landing pad readying the ship for takeoff! We have to hurry back!" Ahsoka commanded, as the first of the slaves scrambled through the hole in the door.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Graykill cast a glance over his shoulder as he worked – still nothing from Ahsoka, but fortunately nothing from anyone else either; quietly, he began releasing the manual locking clamps on each of the ship's legs, so that they would fold, and taking a moment to grease any that might not redeploy upon landing – quietly, he cursed the pirates and their terrible maintenance habits.

Next, came sealing the fuel port – the ship would have to make do with the fuel it had taken on before the power died; hopefully it would be enough to get them to another system.

As Graykill ran through the preflight checklist in his mind, his thoughts drifted to Ahsoka – she should be back soon. The thought encouraged him – in spite of the fear he felt, he knew once she returned all would be well; what sort of life might a human and a Togruta lead together?

Such pleasant ideas occupied his mind as he finally reached the last hurdle to their freedom: the key code lock on the loading ramp of the ship.

In the darkness, Graykill could barely make out the keys, which were so abused from years of rough treatment that most of the letters and numbers were covered in grime.

He studied the keypad intently – the number inscribed on six keys on the pad had been completely worn away by the friction of thousands of repeated finger strokes.

Graykill tried a number of different combinations – each chirped a mocking rejection note as he keyed them in at random; frustration began to well up inside the young man as a simple electrical panel posed the last and greatest challenge of all the schemes and plots he'd cooked up over the weeks.

 _It's hopeless… I could be standing out here guessing numbers randomly all night!_ Graykill thought to himself, until a thought struck him – in the darkness, the security pad's print was illegible.

 _Wait a minute…_ Graykill thought, remembering an old slicer's trick he'd seen in a holo-vid he'd watched as a boy.

 _If I had a light to see by, I could try cross-wiring the pad circuitry, shorting it out and opening the lock!_ Graykill thought.

 _ **VSSSWSHHHH!**_

"Oh, Ashla! You're right on––!" Graykill said, as the silvery beam of light illuminated the keypad brightly and distinctly for a single instant.

The saber bit deep… And the pain began.

The blade sprouted to its full length – Graykill stared at the glowing mass sprouting from the center of his chest for an instant before the blade slammed into the keypad, burning through it in the blink of an eye and overloading the faulty circuitry.

"Oi, mate. 'Ow 'bout Oi give ye a hand with that, yeah?" Dorrekk purred evilly in Graykill's ear, the instant before he withdrew the blade.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

 **Author's note:** Chapter 17 may drop a day ahead of schedule – if not, it should hopefully be out by Saturday as usual!


	17. Chapter 17

Captain Dorrekk withdrew the saber from Graykill, who crumpled to the floor like a marionette whose strings had been cut – the young human realized they had, in a sense.

 _No… Ashla…!_ Graykill thought, hardly able to muster the courage or the strength to lift his head enough to look at the gaping black hole that had been burnt clean through him.

Dorrekk stood over Graykill gloating in his victory as the damnable ramp, the final hurdle to overcome, slowly began to drop, now that the panel had been destroyed. "S'matter mate, ye all knackered out from gettin' me ship ready to leave?" Dorrekk sneered at Graykill in sadistic amusement.

The next words out of Dorrekk's mouth ceased to hold any importance to Graykill, as the greatest welter of emotions he'd ever experience flooded his mind – memories of the family he'd been stolen from, memories of his home and home planet, child hood experiences, the few good times he'd shared with the other slaves, the fondness he'd built up around the Togruta he'd worked so hard to save…

A tear visited Graykill's eye as he spat forth a welter of blood – mercifully, the nerve damage to his severed spinal chord would blot out most of the pain, but it wouldn't do a thing to stop him from feeling the swirling terror, denial, anger, helplessness, and grief that had descended upon him.

 _Ashla…!_ Graykill thought, fighting desperately, futilely, to clutch onto consciousness and life.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Dorrekk grinned – although the stab through the back was a nice touch, he belatedly realized it would have been infinitely more amusing to have kidnapped the damnable human slave and torture him to death slowly – however, time was short and the end was in sight.

However, something made Dorrekk freeze on the spot – responding to the old Quay's finely honed sense for danger, the beginnings of hot fear began to prickle the Captain's innards. Almost immediately, Captain Dorrekk ceased his teasing of the downed human at his feet – he stiffened, and straightened, glancing back in the direction of the compound.

For a few moments, Dorrekk could see nothing but darkness – then he felt a malevolent aura that gripped him tightly, making his hearts race faster. Immediately, the Weequay realized the depths of the folly of striking the human down; for the first time in a long time, Dorrekk knew genuine fear, and as his throat worked, he glanced up at the ship's ramp – even if he jumped to haul himself up, he knew he'd never get away.

Insides churning, Dorrekk glanced down at the human boy – in his terror, the blind hope that perhaps he'd not harmed the lad as badly as he really had, visited Dorrekk; however, as the pool of scarlet began to touch the tip of his worn spacer's boot, that stillborn hope vanished.

A shadow moved in the darkness ahead – Dorrekk blinked his eyes. The shadow _was_ the darkness.

Raw anger, raw hatred, raw fury, the undeniable desire of vengeance began to assail the Weequay with such potency that even Dorrekk's blunt senses could feel them – as the trepidation tightened around his throat, Dorrekk tightened his grip around his blaster, and the lightsaber he'd struck the human down with – somehow, the old Pirate knew they were worthless.

A low rumble, a hellish thunder began to shake the surroundings as the darkness strode toward Dorrekk with deadly grace, and precision – the shadowy orange nightmare knew he couldn't escape.

Like something out of an old horror holo-vid, a pair of eyes began to shine as the lights inside the ship began to pour out the gap formed by the extending loading ramp – gold and yellow eyes bore into him for just an instant. They glanced down at the pile of humanity at Dorrekk's feat.

Dorrekk's mouth worked silently – a hundred different excuses, pleas, threats, bargains, and challenges flittered through his mind. The furious, blazing eyes narrowed to nightmarish slits, focusing their pin-prick like intensity on him in an instant. His mind went blank – like his weapons, Dorrekk realized it too would be worthless.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

 _Stay true to yourself, Ahsoka. No matter what happens, never give into the Dark side._ The words rang plaintively in Ahsoka's head – she shook her head slowly.

She'd followed the path of the light – she'd done as Master Plo had asked. She'd resisted the call to the dark side… And yet, for all his counsel, for all of her good behavior, her keen eyes could still make out the crumpled, motionless form at Dorrekk's feat. Devotion to the light side of the Force had – as ever – continually brought Ahsoka nothing but heartache and loss.

Hot moisture began to trickle down Ahsoka's cheeks as the weight of denial settled upon her ailing heart. The depths of how cheated she felt couldn't be expressed in words – instead, she seized upon the feelings of loss and hate, of grief.

Ahsoka's skin itself crawled – she radiated the aura of death. Where moments ago she had been aware of the presence of the slaves all huddled around her, she only felt emptiness now as they all retreated away from her, too scared to venture anywhere near her.

As Ahsoka's eyes locked with Dorrekk's, she transmitted the depths of her displeasure with him in a single moment. Her trembling hand gripped her Shoto in a white-knuckle grip; blood lust and an insatiable thirst for vengeance filled her unlike any the Togruta had ever known.

Somewhere within the lightsaber, Ahsoka sensed something – a nagging, distracting, discordant aura that chewed at her already terribly frayed nerves like a starship burning up on reentry. Tightening her grip, Ahsoka focused her conscience on the source of the aggravating song – so familiar, and yet so alien – and willed it to be silent.

However, the hum within the saber refused… For a moment.

Ahsoka would not tolerate being questioned by anyone or anything – focusing her attention for a brief moment on the source of the disruption, the Togruta speared the hum with her conscience.

 _We are no longer in tune as we once were, you and I._ The presence within the blade conveyed to Ahsoka's mind, attempting to defend itself against Ahsoka's naked hostility.

 _Then let me change that, so you won't bother me anymore._ Ahsoka thought, dropping what felt like the neutron star's weight that crushed her heart onto the hum within, silencing it almost immediately.

Dorrekk's stance shifted – he drew his blaster. The movement seemed to be performed in stop-motion to Ahsoka's heightened senses.

A crimson red light flashed to life in Ahsoka's palm, as her saber blade rose to intercept and deflect the bolt – it sailed harmlessly off into the starry night sky.

The second, third, fourth, fifth, and six bolts never made it any closer than the last, as Ahsoka swatted them vengefully aside – the interval between each bolt shortened drastically as the Togruta began to charge with all the fury and anger she'd ever bottled up in her career as a Jedi and Padawan.

Dorrekk drew 'his' saber blade – the sight of it only infuriated Ahsoka more.

 _ **Murderer!**_ Ahsoka thought; in spite of the anger, cold grief began to grip the Togruta. There was no way in all the stars that she'd be able to torture this foul monster to death slowly enough, long enough, to ever make him feel even a tenth of an ounce of the pain Ahsoka felt for Graykill at that moment.

Dorrekk raised the blade – though his stance clearly intimated previous training with a vibroblade, Ahsoka's thoughts drifted past that, past the possibility that Dorrekk might last even a few seconds against her – whatever his training with traditional edged weapons, it wasn't enough.

Ahsoka focused her coldness on the saber in his hand – Dorrekk strained to hold onto it, but it ripped itself free of his grasp as if a thousand demonic entities had pried it from his grasp. It flew across the darkened landing zone, slamming home in Ahsoka's palm.

Dorrekk braced himself as best he could.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Graykill was dimly aware of a flurry of scarlet light – it lasted for several seconds. However, he was rapidly moving beyond such concerns.

High above, each and every one of the many thousands of stars glittered and twinkled silently, dimming gradually as the seconds passed. Not even his pulse pounded in his ears anymore – it was the quietest moment he'd ever experienced in his whole life.

Familiar shapes materialized out of the darkness – grief-stricken faces that Graykill realized.

"Come on…! Get… The… Ship…!" The voices sounded far away – the young man became dimly aware that he was being moved; a moment later, the glow of the stars was replaced by the terribly familiar, spartan confines of the Pirate ship hold.

Someone, a Cathar – Seepurr, Graykill belatedly remembered – hunched over him for a moment; in spite of whatever unkindness had occurred between them moments ago, Graykill witnessed profound grief in the cat-man's feline features, as Seepurr glanced at the young human's sundered chest.

 _I died trying… But I did it. They're alright. They're free._ Graykill thought absently, now that his thoughts were growing fuzzier and fuzzier by the minute, and not even the bright interior lights of the ship seemed so bright anymore.

Graykill then beheld an unusual creature that seemed both vaguely familiar and completely alien to him at the same time – a Togruta drooped over him, barely able to control herself.

 _Ashla…_ The young man realized, with shock. It was just enough of a jolt to squeeze one last lucid moment out of his hazing brain. She didn't look at all as he remembered her – she looked like the creature he had caught the barest glimpse of in the darkness of the halls.

Warmth flecked his cheeks, mixing with the moisture already rimming his eyes; the Togruta pressed a hand around his cheeks – a hand heavily flecked with orange Weequay blood.

Instead of filling Graykill with parting relief, his final glimpse of Ahsoka destroyed him: _Dorrekk finally found a way to break her – I… I failed._

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"I found it! I have found the Med–" Loorpa gurgled frantically, seizing the box and turning to run toward the fallen human – however, there didn't seem to be much of a rush anymore, and the huddle of slaves all seemed to deflate collectively at once as the Togruta went completely to pieces; the Ithorian slowed to a stop – the wracking sobs of the Togruta stooped over Graykill masked the sound of the plastic case tumbling from the Ithorian's slackened hand.

It was Gar that moved first – he took a step forward, intending to try and calm Togruta… But thought better of it. There would be no calming her after such a loss – the young man had given everything for her, a complete stranger, and him, a fellow victim of circumstance; no words he could have offered her would have distracted her from the grief she was feeling.

…In truth, Gar also felt a healthy pang of trepidation venturing anywhere near the Togruta after the gruesome display of violence outside the ship, and of the palpable aura of bitter ennui she exuded even now.

"G-Gian…" Gar whispered, turning to the Sullustan slave – ex-slave – who turned to him only after a moment. Though Gar had never personally met a Sullustan in his life before he'd become a slave, it was plain to see that Gian had been deeply upset by Graykill's loss.

"Gian… I-I think we'd better get this ship in the air. There's nothing more either of us can do here." Gar replied shakily. Gian nodded, shuffling past Gar quickly – perhaps grateful for a distraction from the grief, the Sullustan hurried up to the command deck almost immediately.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

The ramp finally moaned shut, sealing the still and stale air inside; the low hum of the ship's engines slowly transitioned to a dull roar, and the tell-tale flickers in the ship's artificial gravity that marked the beginning of its ascent all went completely unheeded by Ahsoka, as she cradled Graykill's body in her arms.

Unlike so many times before, when Ahsoka had meditated her feelings away, all the times she'd neglected to shed tears caught up with her then – _Please… Let this not be happening. This can't be happening! After all we both went through! After everything he did for me! This isn't fair! This isn't fair! THIS ISN'T FAIR!_

It changed nothing – Graykill remained limp and lifeless in Ahsoka's arms, and as the seconds stretched on into minutes, the wracking sobs that rattled her haggard body did nothing to assuage the terrible emptiness in the core of her being.

However, a gentle hand on Ahsoka's shoulder drew her attention away for a moment – Twi'la squatted down beside the Togruta, equally watery-eyed. "It's… Going to be okay." She offered quietly – Ahsoka merely shook her head, pressing her head to his, _willing_ him to stir again, with no success.

"Listen… I know you're feeling terrible right now – we all are." Twi'la said gently; Ahsoka wiped her hazy eyes, glancing up at each of the slaves in turn.

Timidly at first the group of freed slaves hesitated – then, each of the sentients ventured closer. Nearly all of them ones that Ahsoka had never met before…. And yet each of them bore the unmistakable signs of grief, touched by the fall of the young man. Inwardly the Togruta felt a pang of bitterness at their intrusion upon such a personal moment – however, their actions soon snuffed out any hatred Ahsoka felt toward the freed slaves.

The Ithorian was the first to approach, sinking to his knees beside Graykill, craning his flat head, and taking up the human's limp hand – quietly, the Ithorian began to chant something in his watery language that Ahsoka guessed were funeral prayers to ease the passage of the soul into the afterlife.

The female Twi'lek approached; reverting back to her own native language, she joined the Ithorian in saying prayers over the body of the fallen young man – ripping a section of her dirty tunic off, she wiped the blood from Graykill's face.

Each of the humans approached – they too performed their own last rites over the deceased, forming their hands into mystic symbols or bowing prostrate before him; finally, the Cathar approached, the last and most upset of them all. Clenching his eyes shut, the cat-man began to hum – then, he slowly lifted his voice in what Ahsoka realized was a mournful funerary dirge, as his hands passed over Graykill's face, closing the young man's eyes forever.

Then, Ahsoka felt nothing – nothing at all. Just a cold hollowness that seemed blacker and more oppressive than a black hole. In the sea of tributes and eulogies… It was _her_ that had nothing to do or say; her once-vaunted Jedi training had always counseled against the formation of strong interpersonal relationships, and now it had come to mock her in the worst possible way.

A wave of bitter self-loathing filled the Togruta as she realized it wasn't the slaves that were intruding on her grief, it was the other way around – she'd already begun to do what she had at the funerals of fallen allies so many times before: Nothing. As was the Jedi way.

"Everyone!" Gar's voice cut in over the shipboard comms array, "Any of you with any piloting experience, Gian is asking you to get up here immediately. We're in serious trouble!"

 _No._ Ahsoka thought, working her dry throat – the lump in it brought tears to her eyes, but she forced herself to her feet shakily. _I don't know what I am right now,_ Ahsoka thought, trying to compose herself in spite of the identity crisis that clutched at her even now, _But it's not a Jedi. Not anymore. And that means I have to do something._ She might not know how else to mourn Graykill besides let the tears flow, but, she could still fly – that was how she'd honor his sacrifice. She'd fly all of his recently liberated fellows to safety.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"Ergh… The little red…?" Gar muttered to himself, searching the instrument panel before him for the control he needed, futilely – Ahsoka belatedly realized he was trying to help Gian pilot the ship despite having no experience himself.

"Move over." Ahsoka asserted neutrally, glancing at the instrumentation and avionics before her – the shuttle was old, but not necessarily complicated. Flying an _Aethersprite_ -class interceptor had been far more challenging in all respects than piloting this sleepy hulk.

"Thank–!" Gar began, until the words caught in his throat when he saw who had come to answer the call – however, Ahsoka dismissed his bewilderment, and the fact that the man practically seemed to climb up the wall in an effort to get away from her.

"You." Ahsoka said to the Sullustan, who paused in his working of the controls to regard her. "Be my copilot. _I'll_ handle the hard flying." She said – Gian hesitated for a moment, glancing at Gar… Then vacating the primary chair.

Ahsoka let her fingers run over the instruments for a moment, undoing several of the Sullustan's inputs and tweaking or replacing them altogether with optimized adjustments. "What do our fuel reserves look like?" Ahsoka asked.

"We are at 82% capacity," The Sullustan replied immediately, glancing at his readouts, "–Which will get us as far as the Ma'ar Shaddam system, with fuel to spare." Gian replied, picking one of the two largest systems in the Rseik sector as his target – Ahsoka's eyes narrowed.

"Pick a smaller system – somewhere less conspicuous. Our first stop should be incognito; we can decide where to go from there." The Togruta responded. Gian hesitated, but did as he was told.

"I didn't know you were a pilot?" Gar ventured – Ahsoka considered letting the question fall flat for several seconds by pretending to be occupied with the flight control computer; it looked like it had been taught to fly by a bunch of drunken confined Beek-Monkeys, which probably wasn't far off from the Weequay Pirates' actual flying ability.

"I am – or was, but it's not important. Don't distract me." Ahsoka said, adjusting the exterior flight control devices – at once, the ship seemed to smooth out slightly.

"How are our hyperspace calculations coming along?" Ahsoka asked – Gian opened his mouth to speak, then froze; the light speed detection monitor began ringing an alarm.

Ahead of them, the massive white bulk of a _Victory I_ class Star Destroyer burst into existence, slowing down in the blink of an eye to standard sub-light speed – hauling on the control sticks, Ahsoka's eyes narrowed dangerously.

 _The Republic is already here?_ She thought to herself bitterly as the tragically familiar lines of the dagger-shaped Star Destroyer blistered past their own craft. _That figures._

"What the–!?" Gar gasped, in horrified surprise – he'd barely saw the ship as a gigantic gray-white flash blistering past them.

"Where in the galaxy did _that_ come from!?" Gian chattered in his terrified native language.

Ahsoka eyed the instrument panel – a hailing signal was coming from the much larger ship; the moment she answered instead of Captain Dorrekk, the jig would likely be up, and they'd engage their tractor beams.

For a moment, the Togruta regretted her quick thinking; the sudden appearance of the ship on a collision-course with them would have resulted in the old pirate freighter splattering against the battle cruiser's main mast shields like an insect on an air-speeder windshield.

 _They're going to keep hounding me no matter where I go, and I'm tired of running._ Ahsoka thought bitterly – she was tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of losing others, tired of being alone… However, the Togruta's eyes only narrowed as her finely tuned senses prickled. The Star Destroyer wouldn't wait much longer at all before engaging them – Ahsoka realized they had only one chance.

Without any warning, Ahsoka seized the hyperdrive throttle control cluster, and pulled – Giant froze, horrified. "Wait, _wait_! The navicomputer––!" He shouted, not even finishing the sentence as he flinched mightily behind the control panel; the whir of the hyperdrive rose from an idle him to a high-pitched whir, and the stars outside the ship seemed to stretch… Then, they were gone.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

The Inquisitor stood on the bridge of the ship, hands tucked tightly behind his back as he stared out the main observation port into space – the swirling vortex that was hyperspace dilated as the ship slowed, and for a moment, the _Corrupter_ blistered through sub-light space in the blink of an eye, until the hyperdrive fully disengaged and the sub-light engines took over.

To his force-tuned senses, something barely distinct zipped past outside; an indistinct blur against the black backdrop of space. None of the other – lesser – crewmen seemed to notice.

Had it been any other Starship Captain, the Inquisitor would have dismissed it as a simple rock or floating space debris that the Star Destroyer's shields would have dealt with – however, the Inquisitor's force-instincts not only began to prickle… He momentarily staggered, reeling from the power of the sheer _presence_ aboard what he realized had to be a small starship of some kind.

It practically radiated with the energy of the dark side of the force.

"You there!" The Inquisitor commanded sharply to a sensor array technician, stooped over his sensor array. "Dispense with standard sub-light procedure – bring the primary aft sensor array online first!" He commanded.

A thought occurred to the Inquisitor – without missing a beat, he strode forward to a different station. "I want our tractor beams brought online _immediately_! I sense something is amiss – engage at will the instant the sensors acquire your target!"

The Inquisitor's eyes narrowed. "Get me a line of communication with that ship as well." He growled – it was a flimsy attempt at delaying the piloting crew of the shuttle, but it was all that could be done.

"Sir! Passive energy scans detect something preparing to enter FTL travel!" The sensor technician reported. "Primary sensors will have a targeting solution in Five… Four… Three…" The crewman reported; the Inquisitor's hands clenched as he sensed a faint tremor in the force – he turned away from the bridge in disgust.

"––Target is gonna jump––!"  
"––Two, One… Engage!"

"––Tractor beams!"

For a moment, there was silence – tense silence among the bridge crew; the Inquisitor gritted his teeth, waiting for the expected answer. "Sir…" One of the crewman spoke up, very reluctantly. "…Target… Has escaped into hyperspace. They… They are no longer on any of our scopes."

The Inquisitor's hands clenched into fists. This news would not be well received by Lord Vader or Emperor Sidious at all.

However… Could it have been a trick? Or a test maybe? The presence he felt on board the ship had practically _alive_ with the virulent energies of the dark side of the force – he'd only sensed such power when standing in the presence of Lord Vader himself. No Jedi could have exuded such a black aura, regardless of what the Pirate they had originally been contacted by, had called her. If it were an agent of the dark lords sent to test his skill, it would not reflect well upon the Inquisitor at all.

 _No,_ The Inquisitor thought. _The presence I felt was too chaotic… Too erratic, to be someone trained by Lord Vader. It was not one of us._ He decided, at length.

Furthermore, the silver color of the force-sensitive creature's saber was another oddity – it matched nothing on record as being a primarily Jedi or Sith aligned weapon… Though the image of it over the Pirate Captain's transmitted video had been clear.

 _Lord Vader will be most… Displeased… By the escape of such a unique specimen._ The Inquisitor thought, going slightly cold inside.

"Have you calculated their escape trajectories?" The Inquisitor demanded.

"No sir. They jumped before we could get a proper fix on their heading and direction. They could be anywhere, sir." A crewman reported very reluctantly.

The Inquisitor glared hatefully out at the view port – again, his fists clenched. "Primary sensor array is online. We are detecting what could be an outpost on one of the moons of the planet below. They may be trying to hide themselves – there are numerous life-signs detected inside but no power signature."

Without even needing to reach out with his senses, the Inquisitor knew there would be nothing of interest there – nevertheless, he still dutifully reached out with his perceptions, reading each one of the sentients within the compound below, and found exactly what he thought he would: _Nothing. They are all completely useless to me,_ The Inquisitor thought, finding no force-sensitive signatures among any of the beings on the Moon far below.

"Hmph." The Inquisitor spat. "Worthless criminal scum, all. Blast them into oblivion." He sneered.

As the low hum sounding that the ship's weapon systems began to power up, the Inquisitor turned from the view port; he had a very unfortunate report to make to Lords Sidious and Vader. It would not reflect too poorly on himself, though – he had arrived ahead of schedule; it was the Pirate Captain's own foolishness that likely allowed the nameless Togruta force-sensitive to escape, and he would certainly pay the price.

As the Inquisitor left the bridge, outside, the first enormous green turbo-laser beams began to streak toward the Pirate outpost below.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"What are you doing!?" Gian demanded shrilly in his native tongue – Ahsoka's hands momentarily wavered from the hyperspace throttle; she sat back in her seat, watching the ethereal swirl of hyperspace travel outside in silence for a moment.

"What happened? _What happened_!?" Gar demanded nervously, upon seeing Gian's terrified reaction; Ahsoka did not answer either of them.

"She jumped before the navicomputer was finished calculating our jump! We could smash into a planet or a black hole at any–" The Sullustan yelled, then fell silent, almost literally choking on the words as Ahsoka fixed him in an absolutely murderous glare. Then, before the color could fully drain from the creature's facial ribs, she pointedly glanced down and jerked her index finger sharply at the instrument read out between the two of them: The hyperdrive readout panel glowed a reassuring green. It had in fact calculated the jump successfully.

"What's this mean?!" Gar demanded nervously, in spite of Ahsoka's short temper – however, he still had the good sense to address the question to the Sullustan instead of Ahsoka.

The Sullustan sputtered, staring at the panel – then he let out a strangled sign of amusement. "I… We… She…!" Babbled.

"I engaged the jump as soon as I saw the hyper-drive finish its calculations." Ahsoka lied – the Sullustan took a moment to collect his thoughts, before speaking again.

"Then… Y-you have my sincerest apologies…!" Gian croaked. "Clearly you are a far better pilot than I ever realized. And we have you to thank for–" However, his jovial tone again died, as Ahsoka stormily turned away from either of them without another word.

"We'll be on a form of autopilot until the jump completes. You won't really need me up here until then." Ahsoka said tonelessly, quietly rising up out of the pilot's chair.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

 _I don't want to go back there._ Ahsoka thought to herself – she didn't want to be in the cockpit either.

Truth be told, she didn't want to ' _be_ '… At all.

The Togruta had in fact made the jump blindly, in the polluted hope that the ship would indeed smack into a planet at faster-than-light speed. Then the misery would be over.

 _That's not what Graykill would have wanted!_ A plaintive thought protested faintly in her mind.

 _What Graykill wants is meaningless now. He's gone._ Ahsoka thought bitterly, feeling moisture rim her dry, itching eyes.

The Togruta's hand shot out to a bulkhead, as she struggled to steady herself on legs that felt like they were no longer a part of her body.

She'd have to go back into the hold, and witness the tragedy of Graykill's corpse…. And Ahsoka belatedly realized that she couldn't stand to do that. Not again.

Her waning strength was finally at its end, Ahsoka realized; the days of deprivation at the hands of the Pirates were finally overwhelming her.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Gentle fingers caressed Ahsoka's wide, round cheek, and Ahsoka focused on the source of the stimulus; she almost jumped out of her Lekku stripes when she spotted Graykill, giving her a morose smile.

"Graykill, you're–" Ahsoka began to say, when she realized what she was saying.

"Here?" He replied vaguely.

"I… Was going to s-say 'alive'…" Ahsoka said, feeling a bitter sinking in the pit of her stomach. Graykill's tragic smile widened slightly, and he shook his head – Ahsoka recoiled from him.

"You… Y-you're not…" Ahsoka stammered, feeling a simmering rage begin to boil up inside her at the imposter that dare mock her by taking on Graykill's form – she had the power to strike him down. She could make the mockery regret ever teasing her this way.

"…Ashla…" The spectre said patiently – his voice was familiar, his features… But Ahsoka pulled away. She didn't want to believe. There might be a slim chance that she would wake up, and it was all a terrible dream.

"…Ashla, please. We… We have to talk." Graykill pleaded gently.

Ahsoka looked around; she was in the hold of the ship, though for some reason it was empty: no slaves, no corpse, no clutter, nothing – nothing but Graykill and her. "This… This is a dream, isn't it?" Ahsoka asked.

"Is that what you think is happening here?" Graykill asked in a solemn tone that made Ahsoka go terribly cold inside – it was then that she realized the she could catch glimpses of the ship through the insubstantial spectre in the image of her friend.

"…You're dying too now, you know." Graykill replied sadly, approaching her again; numbed, Ahsoka could think of nothing to do or say. "You've given up. You've given in. You've lost the will to live, Ashla. And it hurts me to see you this way – it's not at all like the you I remember." The young human said, again running his finger across her cheek lovingly.

"How…?" Ahsoka stammered – Graykill pressed a finger to her lips. "I know you feel it. The rage, the anger, and the denial – you contemplated attacking me a few moments ago, didn't you? I felt it. I _felt_ it. That is how I'm so sure you're different now. I can feel you exuding the darkness within you." He replied, bringing hot embarrassment to Ahsoka, who wanted to turn, run away from him, in shame.

In spite of the declaration, Graykill grinned – he actually grinned. "Don't feel bad, Ashla. I'm not holding it against you, or I wouldn't still be here." He said, reassuringly.

"Then… W-why _are_ you here?" Ahsoka demanded, on the verge of tears.

"Love." Graykill answered, as if the answer obvious, and simple. He added, quietly. "I may not be there with you physically anymore, but that doesn't mean I can't still do my best to watch over you, no matter how hard it is on me now." Graykill said, his tone hinting at strain within his voice.

"I don't know what it is you've become, but it's not the Ashla I risked my life to save." The human said. "You may be different than I remember you in life… Very different. But that doesn't mean anything to me. You changed once already, to become what you are now. I know you can change back to being like the Ashla I knew. And I'll stay here with you until you do. I know it can be done."

Without waiting for a response, Graykill wrapped his arms around her tightly; Ahsoka felt herself at a loss as for what to do – hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around him. In spite of everything…

"You have to go back now, Ashla. Be strong – I'll help you as much as I can." Graykill cut her thoughts off, filling the Togruta with dread.

"But… I… I don't…!" She stammered, clutching onto him more tightly than ever; clenching her eyes shut, Ahsoka did not want to let him go. If that meant following him where she thought he was going…

However, the harder she hugged Graykill, the less substantial he seemed to become – and the less bitter, and uncertain she felt. With horror, the Togruta recoiled away from Graykill, realizing what he was doing – the last thing she was was his his uncertain grin as his evidently greatly weakened, ghostly silhouette drifted away from her.


	18. Chapter 18

"Hey!" The sound of someone's voice greeted Ahsoka's montrals – Ahsoka let out a weak moan.

 _I'm alive…_ The Togruta thought neutrally.

"Come quick!" A slightly more familiar voice shouted – the female Twi'lek.

The world came screaming back to Ahsoka. Unfortunately, the first sensation to greet her return to life was pain – physical, not mental pain. The Togruta groaned sharply – her empty stomach, her pounding head, the stiffness in her muscles…

"You're alive!" The Twi'lek – Twi'la – said, joyfully. For a moment, the happiness of her tone grated on Ahsoka's nerves; there was nothing to be so joyful about. However, a niggling doubt at the back of her mind admonished such thoughts – for better or worse, she was alive.

"What…" Ahsoka moaned, trying to sit up – the Cathar helped her to a seated position. All around the hold however, the slaves lay motionless; they were all asleep.

"…Where are we?" Ahsoka asked, wiping her eyes – her skin felt flushed with heat; the dehydration headache didn't help her low spirits at all either.

"Laria." The Cathar replied, quietly. "We're in the Laria system. We'll be touching down soon." The cat-man said distractedly, as he hesitantly approached. "You should take it easy. You… Passed out. We thought perhaps we would lose you too."

The tone of the Cathar was low, and uncertain – Ahsoka did not need her force sensitivity to feel the eyes of the two slaves boring into her as she rubbed her face tiredly; neither seemed to know what to do or say – thus, they merely sat in silence.

The cat-man's words reminded Ahsoka of the bitter truth of her life again as a lone wanderer –confirming the eerie dream's tragic premise, Ahsoka knew without having to look that Graykill was indeed gone. She looked down at the covered form she lay beside, and it set her stomach to churning terribly.

"I…" She stammered – the overpowering urge to be away from the reminder of the fallen human became overpowering. Quietly, the Cathar helped Ahsoka to her feet.

"Steady – steady. You are still unwell." He said cautiously.

 _That has to be the understatement of the millennium…_ Ahsoka thought, bleakly.

"When was the last time you ate? Are Togruta supposed to be so thin?" Twi'la asked in a tone that clearly indicated she didn't believe so – however, Ahsoka could hardly get her mind to approach the idea of food. She only felt a hollow emptiness in the pit of her stomach that no food would ever fill.

"I can't remember." Ahsoka mumbled dismissively, not wanting to think too hard on the subject.

"Dorrekk made us clean up the hold of this ship but we never got around to actually unloading any of the cargo. There's some ration packs in here – you need to eat. If you're anything like me, your Lekku are a sign that you're in terrible shape." Twi'la said as gently as she could.

Ahsoka couldn't suppress the embers of rage within her that smoldered to life at such a statement. She had been beaten, nearly defiled, starved, dehydrated, and she'd lost Graykill. Of _course_ her Lekku would look terrible – _all_ of Ahsoka probably looked terrible.

Twi'la shut her mouth with a pronounced clip as Ahsoka's eyes flashed up at her – she shied away slightly, clearly unnerved… However, Ahsoka went slack; the Togruta dropped her gaze to the floor a moment later.

 _It's not her fault I'm in a terrible mood._ The Togruta thought… And then paused.

 _Actually, it damn sure is!_ Ahsoka realized a moment later – had Graykill not been incessant on going after them, he would not have been left alone for Dorrekk to sneak up behind; he'd be alive right now.

 _ **No!**_

A weak voice in Ahsoka's head argued firmly – Graykill had seen fit to sacrifice himself for _all_ of their sakes, not just hers.

 _As bitter as I am, I can't take it out on these slaves… Graykill made his own decision. Just as the clones did back in the war…_ Ahsoka thought to herself, feeling the smolder of hate fizzle out; instead a numbing exhaustion replaced it.

"Erm…Which one would you like?" Twi'la tried offering again, holding up a number of different ration packs; Ahsoka chose one at random without even looking at it, and tore it open with her sharp nails. She may not feel hungry, but battlefield discipline had been instilled in her long ago – she'd learned to force herself eat to maintain her strength, even when she didn't feel like it.

The Togruta quietly began to chew – Ahsoka knew the richly spiced food should have been flavored strongly… And yet she tasted nothing. More emptiness that her hollow existence failed to respond to.

As Ahsoka continued to eat, Twi'la and Seepurr exchanged uncertain glances behind her.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

The door to the ship's tiny lavatory shut, leaving Ahsoka mercifully alone for the first time since the escape – she'd craved the privacy. Somehow in spite of her thoughts before, she resented them intruding upon what should have been a moment of private grief.

Ahsoka felt her stomach churn sharply, nearly doubling her over – her hands shot out to the dirty refresher nearby; belatedly, the Togruta realized she was in danger of seeing her meal again. Evidently it had been a bit _too_ rich after not having eaten nearly anything at all for days.

 _Focus… Focus, Ahsoka. Get it together – you're made of tougher stuff than this._ However, the half-hearted attempt at a pep talk fell entirely flat, and her shoulders sagged – for the first time in her short life, she did not at all feel up to the challenge of persevering as she always had… And finally being truly abandoned by her own tenacity was a terrifying feeling to experience for the first time.

The trickle of water rang in her ear-like Montrals; Ahsoka washed her face – it was still covered in dried pirate spit, and dried blood, some of which was hers, Graykill's, and Dorrekk's; inwardly, she hoped chilly water against her flushed skin would be the first sensation that truly seemed to break through the muddy haze that dulled Ahsoka's senses – it wasn't.

The demon lurking within the lavatory wall chose that moment to reveal itself, and Ahsoka gasped sharply in horror as it locked eyes with her – her hand immediately shot to her lightsaber hilt.

The demon opposite her seemed to do the same, and the shock of facing a foe on the ship that evidently knew of lightsaber combat as well stunned Ahsoka enough that she froze for a moment.

 _Wait a minute…_ Ahsoka thought, going terribly still inside – the creature froze as well, staring at her in equal disbelief. With its white and blue-striped lekku and montrals,, orange skin, the monstrous creature looked all too terrifyingly familiar.

However, where there should have been beautiful, sapphire-blue eyes that shone with the light of a blue star, there were instead menacing yellow and red eyes that seemed to smolder and glow with the angry heat of roiling magma.

 _I can feel you exuding the darkness within you._

The words from the dream – vision – echoed loudly in Ahsoka's mind.

 _I don't know what it is you've become, but it's not the Ashla I risked my life to save._

Ahsoka felt horror grip her – _You're falling, Padawan Tano._

The yellow eyes itched and burned terribly from the irritation of tears they could not shed – Ahsoka felt sick. _I… I've fallen. Completely._ Ahsoka thought, touching a trembling hand to her own face – even her normally healthy orange skin seemed sallow, and gaunt.

Memories flashed through Ahsoka's head – of giving completely into her hatred, rage, and fury at Dorrekk for taking Graykill away from her. At stealing her happiness. And now, he'd taken much more than just a mate from her; he'd done what not even Sith Lords could have done: He'd corrupted and broken her completely.

 _That's it then. Master Plo was right – I was falling, and I was too stupid to see it even with his guiding me. Now I'm lost…. And alone._

The weakness building within her crested; she sank to her rump on the dirt floor, not really caring that anyone close to the outside of the lavatory could hear her begin to sob bitterly.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

The cargo ramp of the ship pressed down into the dusty red crust of the planet below – what few scrubby purple weeds limned the empty patch of flat land that served as the docking bay billowed in the slight breeze that trickled through the rocky and uneven terrain; muddy, purple-brown clouds blotted out the rusty red sun high above.

"If you sought a place where you would go unnoticed, this is it. This planet has only one space port of note – it's also the larges settlement." Gian explained over the comm-link fitted to a wrist bracer Ahsoka had scavenged from the piles of crates still within the ship.

"Ex…cuse me…" Twi'la addressed Ahsoka warily – she could not help but shy away slightly when Ahsoka turned to regard her, and inwardly Ahsoka now realized it was likely from her eyes.

"What?" Ahsoka asked, neutrally – still, the Twi'lek seemed to be startled into silence, and remained so for several moments, evidently composing her thoughts.

"Erm… Well… Most of us were in agreement with you." Twi'la began, haltingly – Ahsoka worked her jaw once, not saying anything.

"…It w-was probably for the best that we stopped somewhere out of the w-way until we could take stock of our situation… But the others will want to begin returning to their homes soon. We've begun discussion what our next move should be now that we're here." Twi'la said, timidly.

 _Whatever you all do with yourselves once you leave my sight is of no concern to me,_ Ahsoka thought, waspishly – however, she kept such thoughts to herself.

"We will need supplies. And fuel." Ahsoka said, beginning to fall back on her experience as a starship pilot – having something to focus her mind on would stave the pain for a while yet still; slowly, her mind began to work, and she turned back to the ship.

"We'll need to inventory what we've got on hand, and figure out what shape this hunk of junk is in – it doesn't look like those Pirates were big on maintenance. I've seen waste barges on Mygeeto that were in better shape than _this_ tub." Ahsoka remarked, letting her scornful gaze run across the exterior of the pirate vessel.

Twi'la seemed to hesitate – but whatever the result of her internal struggle, the Twi'lek remained silent; she began to turn away.

"What is it?" Ahsoka demanded somewhat coldly, sensing the degree of hesitancy within her.

"Nothing. I'll… I'll tell the others of your suggestion." She responded, placing an almost imperceptible, but still distinct emphasis on the final word – Ahsoka's hand tightened into a fist.

However, Twi'la turned away without another word and began walking back up the ramp of the ship.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"We have two crates of Glitterstim spice – highly illegal." The Cathar who'd introduced himself as Seepurr announced, somewhat hesitantly. "Although it's valuable cargo, it will be difficult to sell, and practically impossible here. These people are subsistence farmers and prospectors – few of them will have any use for contraband of this caliber… And if we're ever caught by Republic Authorities with it, we'll be lucky they don't space us on the spot."

Ahsoka listened to the Cathar explain the quandary of the illicit materials while suppressing an idle smolder of irritation – she'd arrived at exactly the same conclusion without his commentary.

"There are thirteen blasters – illegally modified – total; they must have belonged to Dorrekk's crew. I don't know how much good they'll be to us either; even if we could convince some of the people in town to buy them, they wouldn't give us much of a price for them." Seepurr continued.

"And last we have ten crates of miscellaneous goods, not counting the food and supplies we'll be keeping to ourselves. We'll be lucky if we can sell that for enough money to afford fuel to the next space port, let alone enough for all of us to go our separate ways." Gar finished somewhat quietly – each of the slaves fell silent.

Though they didn't seem particularly pleased by the news, there was still a general sense of guarded optimism – even if they were broke and stranded on a tiny outpost practically on the edge of wild space… They were still technically _free_. Ahsoka stood as a stark contrast – where there were muted smiles or grins, she only wore a gloomy scowl.

"What we have here won't be enough to get us anywhere." Ahsoka declared without preamble – this unhappy declaration was met with silence from the assembled slaves, who stared amongst each other for several long moments, until Ahsoka glanced at the outpost in the distance.

The architecture looked grimly familiar – even without needing to see the extremely faded blue hexagonal symbols on the side of each building, Ahsoka knew at a glance that it was the style favored by the Trade Federation.

"We'll need to do some scouting around." Ahsoka said, after a moment. "Some of you will need to go to town and see what you can learn – I'll begin seeing what patch jobs I can do on this rust bucket." She announced.

If anyone had the desire to voice their dissent to Ahsoka's commands, they lacked the courage to actually do so – she turned without another word and began stalking quietly up the loading ramp.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

 _.: Flight Control Software Calibration Suite :._

 _Sanity-testing user-defined modifications…_

 _Testing…_

 _Testing…_

 _Radical changes in on-board flight control suite detected_

 _Projected 503% increased flight control and avionics efficiency_

 _Warning: Regression testing of all flight systems are strongly recommended – proposed modifications to the on-board suite are far above recommended spot-check safety limits._

The readouts on the instrument panel hardly mattered to Ahsoka – the corrections she'd made were as stable as she could make them in lieu of a full overhaul to the flight computer and ship itself.

Through the view port, the band of newly freed slaves could barely be seen in the distance – they were nearing the tiny space port; Ahsoka cared not at all.

She slouched back against the pilot's chair, grateful that she'd volun-told the chatterbox Sullustan to go along with the scouting team to reconnoiter the outpost's starship maintenance and repair capabilities.

 _It won't matter,_ Ahsoka thought to herself sourly. _Well will be out of supplies fairly soon – if we don't make it to a larger system and unload our cargo, we may have to resort to selling the ship and splitting the earnings amongst ourselves just to buy food._

It was a gloomy prospect – she wouldn't have batted an eyelash at such a minor challenge had Graykill been there to lend her his strength.

 _I don't know what it is you've become, but it's not the Ashla I risked my life to save._

The words stung, and Ahsoka clenched her eyes – a tear trickled down her cheek.

 _I don't know what it is you've become, but it's not the Ashla I risked my life to save._

Somehow, the repairs to the ship didn't seem to matter to Ahsoka anymore.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"Well, at least the food is good." A slave remarked absently, tucking into one of the ration packs distributed from the ship's food supply – it was a slight bit of optimism in light of the fact that the recon team had returned with discouraging news about financial prospects in town.

"…Back home, I…"

"…Rejoin my herd…"

"…See my husband…"

"…miss my mother's home cooking…"

The words of the individual conversations ceased to have any meaning to Ahsoka as she started to channel them out – she had no one to talk to, no one to go 'home' to.

No one alive, anyway.

 _Graykill…?_

There was no answer.

 _Graykill… Please._ Ahsoka thought, trying to organize her scrambled thoughts enough to meditate.

 _Graykill…_

However, there was no response – the extremely distracting and equally disconcerting thought of Graykill's final fleeting act in her dream replayed in Ahsoka's mind: the mental image of his nearly intangible, ghostly silhouette drifting away from her.

"Hey!"

The words jarred Ahsoka sharply away from her meditation with a bad jolt – like a mag-clamp, Ahsoka's hand clenched tightly around the wrist that had jarred her awake rudely.

"Ahh!" Someone shouted – Ahsoka relaxed her grip… Slightly.

"Don't…" She said very quietly, glaring hotly up at Twi'la, "…Do that again." The Togruta warned, dangerously, as Twi'la went rigid in her grasp from pain and surprise.

"Ah…! I'm… I'm sorry!" Twi'la sobbed, dropping to her knees – Ahsoka let her go, struggling to regain control of her jolted mind.

The first thing to greet Ahsoka was the indignant, somewhat fearful slaves in the hold – all of them stared at her with a clear mixture of anger, and increasing hostility.

"What'd you do that for? She's only trying to help you!" Seepurr snapped – however, for all of his bravado, he fell silent with a gulp as Ahsoka shifted her murderous stare to him instead.

"Look…" Gar said – he too fell silent with an audible quiver in his voice as he spoke, "…We… We understand that you're going through some tough times. We _all_ are." He continued after a moment spent gathering his courage – this time, he did not fall silent, despite the intensity of Ahsoka's scarlet and yellow gaze. "…I recognize you're experiencing a fair amount of grief. But all of us are trying to make do as best we can – if you're going to keep being hostile, then… Then…"

Gar trailed off, swallowing nervously as Ahsoka's stare darkened. As his newfound courage died away, even he too fell into silence.

"I… May have figured out how to solve our money problem." The Togruta announced to no one in particular, a moment later.

"What, are you going to sell all the rest of us back into slavery again?" Seepurr asked sourly – however, he too clamped his mouth shut when Ahsoka glared at him menacingly.

"No. The opposite." Ahsoka said, coldly – there was silence for a moment.

" What does she mean to do? " The Ithorian slave asked hesitantly after a moment.

"You… You're kidding." Gar said, hesitantly, evidently working out Ahsoka's cryptic statement the quickest.

"I'm not." Ahsoka replied, settling back; she'd said the words out loud she wanted to out loud. Somehow, she seemed to find a bleak, fatalistic comfort in that.

"By now I'm sure you've all seen these." She paused for a moment, momentarily gesturing toward the lightsaber hilt that hung across her hips. "…You saw what they were back when we first escaped – and even if you don't know _who_ I am, you probably at least have a guess as to what I am." Ahsoka continued; her voice echoed in the now dead-silent hold.

"…The ship we narrowly avoided," Ahsoka said, addressing the Sullustan pilot and Gar, "Was a republic warship coming to meet Dorrekk – he was going to exchange me for a sizable bounty that's on my head – the head of all force-sensitives knowledgeable enough in the Force to be useful."

Ahsoka pointedly avoided using the term 'Jedi' or even 'Padawan' anymore – it seemed in poor taste, given her current state; still, none of the slaves said anything, or even seemed to breathe – all of them stared in disbelief.

"Any… Any sentient or sentients that capture me and collect on the Republic's bounty stand to make a stupid amount money – how much I don't know specifically, but it'd be more than enough for each of you to go home, wherever that is in the galaxy." The Togruta finished quietly.

For a long time, there was an ugly silence in the air – it was plainly evident on the faces of the slaves: confusion, skepticism, doubt, and disbelief.

Confusion, considering she'd looked about ready to murder Seepurr and Twi'la only moments ago; skepticism that the plan would work, doubt of her sincerity, and disbelief that she'd even suggest sacrificing herself or any of them.

"…And then what happens to you?" Gar asked in disbelief, having recovered his wits the quickest.

"Once the Republic transfers the bounty reward to you, I effect my escape." Ahsoka lied.

"You cannot _fool_ the Republic!" The Sullustan pilot protested, in disbelief.

"Your safety cannot be guaranteed. Though well-intentioned, this is foolhardiness!" The Ithorian gurgled in his watery, stereophonic language.

"You're sure you actually want to go through with that plan?" Seepurr asked, intrigued.

" _No_ , she's not!" Gar protested incredulously.

"Why not? You saw how easily she cut Dorrekk down – Captain _Dorrekk_ , of all people! If anyone can cleave their way through a couple of soldiers, it's her." Seepurr insisted.

A flurry of discussion rose up on the heels of Gar and Seepurr's debate – however, Ahsoka realized one voice remained conspicuously absent; absently, Ahsoka glanced at Twi'la, who remained clutching her wrist tenderly. The Twi'lek stared at her for several moments.

Casting a glance back at the discussion between the freed slaves, Ahsoka decided she'd much prefer something akin to peace – quietly, she slipped away while the freed slaves debated.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"…Are you sure you're doing this for the right reasons?" Twi'la asked some time later – inwardly, Ahsoka sighed, hoping to have avoided any second-guess meddling in the plan.

"Yes." Ahsoka lied, meeting Twi'la's gaze – still the Twi'lek seemed to wither slightly beneath her glowering eyes; after a moment, Ahsoka turned away.

"You… You've taken Graykill's loss the hardest of us all – with good reason, of course – but… Do you really think he'd want you to risk throwing your life away for us like you're proposing?" Twi'la asked.

For a long moment, Ahsoka was silent.

"Yes. I'm not taking any risks he didn't take himself." The Togruta responded; however, the words felt weak, and lame – an excuse, and Ahsoka knew it.

"Then you're absolutely sure you're okay with this?" Twi'la asked.

"Have they decided?" Ahsoka queried – without meaning to, her hand gripped the armrest of her seat tightly in a white-knuckle grip.

"We took a vote. I-if… If you're willing to go through with it, then yes. We accept." Twi'la responded quietly – Ahsoka's hand released its grip, and she settled back into the coolness of the pilot's chair.

"Fine by me. We'll need to make use of this ship and everything in it for the plan to succeed; we'll begin preparations in the morning." Ahsoka responded, quietly.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

 _I'm here._

The voice sounded faint – very far away almost. Still, Ahsoka was so jolted by perceiving the two simple words so much that she nearly jolted awake right then.

 _Graykill, is that you!?_ The Togruta demanded – however, unlike before, she could not seem to definitively pinpoint the presence of the human; he certainly seemed much weaker as she feared.

 _I'm here._ The young man's voice replied. _I never gave up on you, Ashla; not in life, and not now, even in death._

The words filled Ahsoka with a terrible, black guilt – evidently, Twi'la had been fooled by the denial that taking on the Republic was a suicide mission, but Graykill had not.

 _Don't throw away what I sacrificed everything to save, Ashla,_ the young human said, gently. _Make my death mean something._

 _I love you._

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Ahsoka sat upright; the slaves for once were again all dreaming in the cargo bay together; she could hear their snores in her Montrals, even if she couldn't see them past the moisture in her eyes.

The chill of the interior of the ship bit through to her bones, and not even the threadbare blanket she had wrapped herself in would ever keep it out; the Togruta glanced out the cockpit view port.

It would be several more hours yet until the sun rose in this system – Ahsoka lay back against the cold metal deck of; she'd be alone with her thoughts until then.

 _Not alone – not truly as alone as I thought._ The Togruta finally admitted after a moment, and then her face tightened grimly, her mind began to work, and a bitter determination swept through her.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

 **A** uthor's Note: Sincere apologies for this update being as late as it is; I've recently begun devoting all my free time toward studying. However, I _will_ continue this story, and will try to be better about squeezing in updates on the same WED/SAT schedule if I can, to see it through to its exciting conclusion. Many thanks for your patience and understanding.

Cheers!


	19. Chapter 19

The star destroyer's vague outline could be made out against the stars – it looked like a tiny, bright white wedge high in the darkening sky, no larger than a grain of rice.

Ahsoka hardly cared.

"…Jedi…"

The muddled words reached Ahsoka's Montrals as if poured on like cold molasses – she could hardly even think straight, let alone hear straight.

"…Both…" The voice seemed vaguely familiar, enthusiastic, but again, Ahsoka did not dwell on the voice or the meaning of whatever it was saying for long.

"…Subdued…"

A new voice responded to the first. This one sounded vaguely familiar as well – human, and electronic at the same time… However, the tone was too different to be a clone. The accent was totally wrong.

 _The Republic must have had to resort to recruiting normal, non-clone sentients while I've been away,_ Ahsoka thought, groggily; it took every ounce of concentration she could muster to keep thoughts straight – it was her good luck that she did not have to stand, or even keep her eyes open in her current condition; she'd fail miserably at both.

"…bounty. We… unexpected… Shuttle." The words of the Republic soldier continued to fade in and out; Ahsoka felt the last of her mental reserves beginning to erode, and wear away – soon, she'd be completely incapacitated… If she were lucky.

"Understood… Custody… Out."

Ahsoka felt herself begin to drift, or float – literally. A series of pearly white shapes surrounded her, lifting her and the crude wood plank she knew she was tied to off the ground, hoisting her up, and beginning to march smartly together.

 _They look like pall bearers – my pall bearers,_ Ahsoka thought; the notion was terribly macabre, but it might not be far from the truth soon. Cracking an eye once more to get another glimpse at the tiny white wedge in the sky, Ahsoka found that her eye no longer focused well enough to make out shapes anymore, and the craft was lost in the skies above.

The sky itself was almost immediately blotted out by the jaws of a metal beast – the roof of the cargo hold of whatever shuttle the Republic had sent planet-side to take custody of Ahsoka, she realized.

 _Good… They're… Taking me aboard…. The… S.l.a.v.e.s… H…...a...…...v…..…...e…...….…_ Ahsoka's thoughts drifted away to a complete nothingness that not even _her_ mind could penetrate – she settled onto the plank tiredly; there was nothing else to do now.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"…Negative, sir. We're under strict orders not to attempt removal of any neural restraint devices the bounty hunters put in place without one of the members of the Inquisitorius being present to supervise the operations."

The speaker was silent for a moment – Ahsoka could barely register the vibrations in her Montrals that signaled someone else speaking. The voice was faint; whoever the other conversationalist was evidently was speaking through a communications array.

The Togruta cracked her eyes open for the first time in the stars only knew how long – she felt stiff, and her body was sore in the places where it had lay for too long, unmoved, on a hard and very spartan prison bed that was little more than a glorified duracrete slab.

"No, sir. Whatever those bounty hunters used to drug her for transport is going to take much longer than we expected to work its way out of her system." The trooper's voice drifted down the hallway to Ahsoka – even though she remained still, the urge to let out a terrible grin filled her.

The drug had actually been a page Ahsoka had taken from Graykill's play book – with a toxin synthesizer evidently aboard the pirate ship for their slaving operations, it had been as simple as pressing a button to receive a toxin designed specifically to heavily sedate Togruta biochemistry; it was then merely a matter of diluting it with ordinary water to greatly reduce the potency of its effects, and waiting for it to work its way out of her system. The Togruta momentarily clenched her eyes shut; oh, by the _stars_ she'd continue to miss him terribly.

"…Copy that…. Roger, sir. Until then, we'll continue observation. Out." The jailer replied, obediently.

The only thing above Ahsoka was the ceiling of a cell: glossy, glass smooth black duracrete impregnated with strengthening chemicals to make it impossible for any potential prisoner to dig, bore, chip, melt, shoot, blow, or smash through, or even climb upon; judging by the dim glow illuminating the otherwise darkened room from one side, and the fact that sound reached her montrals so easily, the fourth wall to the cell was likely a particle field.

The muddy, chemical stupor that had gripped Ahsoka was now mostly gone – she felt no urge to pass out, nor any impediment to her ability to call upon the Force; the ghost of the hollow grin finally did begin to tug at one side of her mouth.

Quietly, slowly, she worked each of her fingers and toes – all of them responded reasonably well; she had no trouble touching her fingers to her thumb in sequence after a few tries.

Moving her neck was difficult – there were not one, but two neural collars latched into place, to give the appearance that the team of 'bounty hunters' that had 'captured' her were abundantly more cautious than Captain Dorrekk had been.

The ugly smirk grew wider: the collars were both decoys – she'd personally completely deactivated any neural scrambling capabilities they had, while leaving the status indicators functional; the Republic had unwittingly brought aboard a Trojan Horse in the form of a very agitated and mentally unstable Togruta.

Unfortunately, as the impulse to tear the collars off visited Ahsoka, she froze – there were binders on her hands and ankles that had not been a part of her plan, and were likely fully functional Republic-issue restraint devices. The Togruta paused – she felt a mixture of different emotions as she considered the implications and her options, but panic and fear were not two of them: to her, they would only be a momentary setback; the cold smolder of determination within her would see to that.

Despite Graykill's pithy advice in her dreams, Ahsoka knew she had little to lose anymore, and nothing to be overly concerned about; as far as she was concerned, falling in battle now that she'd literally bought and paid for the slaves' return to their homes and families was as much of a validation as she could hope to give Graykill, considering he'd died for exactly the same reason.

 _However long it's been, they'll probably be long, long gone and back with their families by the time the Republic figures out they've been duped,_ Ahsoka thought, working her throat once in spite of herself.

 _Focus… Focus… It's time to get to work,_ Ahsoka thought firmly, steadying her breathing – shaking off any lingering effects of the toxin, she began to reach forth with her perceptions: _Every security system has a weak link in somewhere… And I'll bet I know where this one's is._

The voice in the hallway was not one she recognized – Ahsoka had spent enough time fighting and nearly dying beside clone troopers for years to know the jailer was most certainly not a clone.

 _The clones were literally born and bred to follow orders – they never disobeyed one even if it were obvious it'd kill them. They were fanatical… I bet even if Skyguy and I put together ever tried, we'd still have never manage to Mind Trick even a grunt. However, these new guys…_

Inwardly, the idea occurred to Ahsoka that the new class of trooper might simply be a clone from a different stock – and therefore, still as fanatically iron-willed as any clone trooper she'd ever known.

… _That's just a risk I have to take,_ Ahsoka decided – it was either that, or sit around and wait for whatever nefarious purposes they had in mind for her, and that was most certainly not an option.

However, despite Ahsoka's determination, she sat, motionless, as the seconds ticked into minutes. _Come on, Ahsoka – you only have a little bit farther to before everything will be alright_ _,_ she thought; Now that she was aboard the ship, the next step should have been to commandeer a weapon and go out in a hail of blaster bolts and glory.

However, it was not the prospect of dying that bothered Ahsoka at all – it was what she knew had to be done next to free herself, first. Quietly, she focused her mind; her incredibly honed, Jedi-trained mind, and began to focus.

The mental images far surpassed any ordinary recording – Ahsoka felt as if she were reliving the moment, even as she lay there in the dimness of the cell.

 _Dorrekk withdrew the blade from Graykill, and the human crumpled in a heap as the life was almost literally cut free of him._

Ahsoka jabbed herself with the painful, white-hot memory of witnessing Graykill's murder at the hands of Captain Dorrekk, like a branding iron – it the cold smolder immediately heated to a white hot fire of anger and bitterness that Ahsoka fled to both literally and figuratively for strength, if not comfort.

 _Dorrekk turned to her – jaunty, confident for only a moment, with her lightsaber in his hand. Adding insult to injury, Dorrekk had killed the first and so far only person Ahsoka had ever truly loved with one of her two only prized possessions in the entire galaxy._

Outside in the hallway, Ahsoka heard the steady, polymer clip-clump of boots as the human jailer dutifully patrolled its length, blissfully unaware of the hurricane building just feet away from him at that very moment.

The Togruta had spent her entire previous life as a Jedi pushing away the power that she now focused on and concentrated – she'd attempted to push it away for Master Plo, and for Graykill, but now they were both gone. Their absence only helped fuel the explosive tidal wave of Force energy Ahsoka was preparing to throw at the Guard outside – the Togruta's skin even began to crawl.

 _If he's even half as strong-willed as the clone troopers I knew were, this may still not be enough,_ Ahsoka thought – Jedi Mind trick only ever worked on individuals with weaker wills, and not even fully harnessing the power of the dark side of the Force might be enough to seize control of his mind; even building her strength and channeling all of her terrible focus at this one's mind might accomplish nothing except alert him to her wakefulness.

 _Oh well – here goes nothing,_ She thought, homing in on the presence of the Jailor's mind – the joints in Ahsoka's fingers and hands popped as she clenched them into fists with extreme prejudice: a wave of telepathic suggestion hit the Guard in one explosive blow.

The Jailer slowed to a stop outside the cell.

"I… Should deactivate the binding devices and lower the particle shield to Detention Cell 395-B." The trooper muttered to himself out loud; inwardly, Ahsoka noted his resistance to her furious onslaught of psychic power was as a lone tree before a collapsing river dam – she slowly untensed her shaking hands.

Moments later, he metal binders around Ahsoka's limbs chimed once, and then unlocked, freeing her. Then, the particle shield serving as the door let out a blooping hum, and flickered out of existence altogether as well.

 _I'm free,_ Ahsoka thought to herself, opening her eyes – though she couldn't see, she was certain they would probably rival a red sun in their malevolent brilliance. However, an unexpectedly sour self-criticism followed that first thought: _Of course they would; that's what you've reduced yourself to now, isn't it?_

However, before Ahsoka could ponder why she was beginning to question herself in such a way, noise distracted her away from her inward struggle: The storm trooper marched up to the entrance of the cell, blaster in hand.

"Prisoner, are you awake?" He called out, formally. "Prisoner, you're free to go."

Ahsoka sat up in a flash, now freed from the restraints – the trooper hesitated.

The Togruta had exhausted herself ensuring the success of the Mind Trick… It would take several moments more of concentration to work up the wherewithal to trick the Guard into thinking he needed to blast himself, freeing his weapon and possibly his armor or any other useful implements up for her use. _I'll kill you, Republic drone,_ Ahsoka thought. _In fact ,I'll make you kill yourself – just as I have made others do it before!_

However, now that she had temporarily exhausted the sheer malevolent energy fueling her anger, another cooler, but still mercilessly scathing self-criticism rose up from the depths of Ahsoka's mind: _Yes, you could make him kill himself, but that worked out **so** well for you once already, didn't it?_

The biting sarcasm sobered the Togruta for a moment, completely disrupting her pondering possibly executing a Force Crush that would pop the man's head inside his helmet like a tossed water balloon.

 _Master Plo said no one's path is ever set in stone – not the two Weequay guards you ordered to their deaths, or this Republic Trooper's,_ Ahsoka thought, _And he was right. You're being stubborn and rash, just like Master Anakin._

"Prisoner, I said you're free to go." The announced again a little more insistently than before, still blissfully unaware of the razor's edge his fate tottered on.

 _What if you'd convinced those two Pirates to help you and the others escape instead of ordering them to their deaths? Would Dorrekk ever have been able to sneak up behind Graykill with them guarding his back while you were away? Might they have known the access code themselves? What minor pittances has wallowing in the dark side given you, compared to the wealth of love and companionship it's taken from you?_

The terribly unsettling notions dug into Ahsoka with unimaginable cruelty – that she might have only herself to blame for Graykill's death, and herself to blame for his being taken away from her, were both implications of nightmarish proportions – for all their strength, the walls began to rumble faintly around Ahsoka from the ambient turmoil within her.

"Guard…" Ahsoka spat shakily, raising a hand – absently, she noted that she'd spent the last several moments clutching her hand into a fist so tightly her nails had dug into her own palms and drawn blood that was now beginning to trickle down her arm.

.

.

 _-Kill him – Graykill is dead, and you came here to die._ _This man is your enemy; his life is forfeit – the first if many!-_

 _.: Master Plo said no one's path is set in stone;_ _Graykill said he believed you could change too. :._

 _-Eopie spit! Dorrekk killed Graykill, and yet you made sure he still paid the ultimate price! __Where was your mercy then, when it was was his turn at redemption?-_

 _.: You only became the person you are now by making a few mistakes along the way._ _What's done is done – treat it as a learning experience and move on. More importantly,_ _this man is a soldier, not a clone – he has family somewhere in the galaxy that still care for him. __Will you prove to be no better than Dorrekk by taking him away from someone else? :._

 _-Life is merciless, bitter, and unforgiving – you should be too!_ _Why should others get to be happy when you only ever seem to get tragedy?_ _Power is coming to you more and more easily;_ _Harness it already and use it to grind the Galaxy to dust under your feet!-_

.

.

Ahsoka felt her head beginning to pound – hesitantly, the trooper approached; more worryingly, the desire to spare or kill the man began to lose ground to a third, far more comforting idea of compelling him to blast her and put and end to the chaotic warring forces within her.

"…Hey, are those cuts? They're bleeding. I'd better call someone up from the Infirmary to take a look at it." The trooper remarked, now noticing that the blue liquid fluid dripping from her balled fist was Togruta blood.

"No, wait. That won't be necessary." Ahsoka said distractedly, staring at her own blood with a mixture of indifference and mild irritation with herself.

"Sorry, but it's a xeno-biological pathogen hazard; regulations explicitly dictate that––"

" _No!_ " Ahsoka snarled forcefully, raising and waving the bloody hand with an irritated flick and rattling the walls and floor as she did so – the trooper hesitated, as his will was crushed by the falling moon that was Ahsoka's powerful influence.

However, the Togruta's insides clenched; the time had come to make a decision… So she would make it. Now.

"…No," The Togruta repeated more evenly a moment later after regaining control of herself, "…You will not. It doesn't look that bad – it's just a few small scrapes; nothing more."

The soldier nodded to himself. "Actually… It doesn't look that bad. It's just a few small scrapes, nothing more." He repeated aloud, losing interest in the blood at once.

Ahsoka stared at the blaster in his hands for a moment.

 _You killed Graykill. You did it, Ahsoka. Nothing can bring him back, and nothing can save you now._

The Togruta gritted her teeth, trying to regain control of her own wayward thoughts.

"Trooper… Give me… Give me…" Ahsoka stammered, unable to tear her gaze away from the rifle for several moments. _Give me that rifle – give it me now._

"…Give me… Y-your name, rank, and serial number." Ahsoka's voice cracked and she deflated.

"Private Jephego Siln, 451-61-6707." He responded. "Why do you need to know?"

Ahsoka hesitated – she was wasting valuable time here, fooling around with some no-name trooper and playing mind games with herself. There were enemy troopers all around – **he** had been an enemy trooper until just moments ago.

 _Oh, come on. It's time to stop being a victim and dust yourself off, Ahsoka. If you'd really wanted for everything to be over, you'd have made him to blast you while you lay here on his table,_ the Togruta thought inwardly, _But you didn't… Because…_

Amid all the terrible and true things Ahsoka was wrestling with, one singular thought stood out in her mind amid all the rest: _…_ _Because_ _Graykill said_ _he believed_ _you could change_ _too_ _._

The idea of the human watching somewhere began to occupy Ahsoka's thoughts – would he approve of witnessing such weakness? Or would he have preferred pacifism instead?

 _He'd have had no use for either trait by itself,_ Ahsoka realized belatedly. _My… My lust for power was Graykill's undoing, just as Master Plo and the Jedi's high-minded idealism was the Jedi's own undoing… And, didn't Graykill use both power and nonviolence to get exactly what he wanted?_

"Well ma'am… You seem to be alright," The trooper said, hesitantly, "And I really must get back to my duties. The exit is down this hall; check out with the detention officer, and whatever you do, stay away from the cell containing other Jedi." The trooper said, turning away.

Ahsoka froze, going completely rigid.

"E… Ex...cuse me?" She asked, shakily – the trooper paused, turning to regard her again. "W- **what** _other_ Jedi?" Ahsoka clarified, shakily forcing herself to her feet from the sheer burst of nervous energy.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but that's classified information––" The trooper responded, until Ahsoka again extended a hand fiercely.

" _ **Not**_ _for me, it isn't!_ " The Togruta exploded savagely, at her patience's end.

"Actually, the information isn't classified for you." The trooper corrected himself blandly, again falling victim to the wave of dominating influence that assailed his mind.

"The other Jedi prisoner was brought here at the same time as you – he's a male human, in his early-to-mid 30's. He didn't _look_ like a very powerful Jedi though; pretty scrawny." The trooper replied.

 _Human…?_ Ahsoka repeated mentally – instantly, she went cold inside, and her stomach began to churn. _They didn't… Please, tell me they didn't do what I think they did…_ Ahsoka wondered, as the trooper escorted her to the cell; it took only a single glance through the dim glow of the particle field for Ahsoka to recognize Gar's face, motionless and still on a duracrete slab identical to hers.

The beginnings of a rage began to visit Ahsoka – however, the storm building within her fizzled out to nothingness only a moment later as memories of the Clone Wars came rushing back:

" _Heya, snips."_

" _Hey, Master."_

" _I must have carbon sickness, because I could swear that's Ahsoka!"_

The look on Anakin's face and to a lesser extent, Master Obi-Wan's, had been both intimidating and priceless – Ahsoka had willfully snuck aboard a ship carrying Anakin's strike team to accompany him on a could-be suicide mission to the Separatist-held prison planet of Lola Sayu. Anakin had been furious at first… Even though she'd later became instrumental to the mission's success.

 _Those were simpler days, though,_ Ahsoka thought, morosely.

"We've had him under the same restraints as you – neural collars, and mag-clamp restraints. He won't be going _anywhere_." The jailer commented, confidently.

"He doesn't belong in there – free him immediately." Ahsoka commanded, distracted by her own bittersweet war memories; even so, the trooper paused.

"…Now that I think about it, he doesn't really belong in there. I'll get him out; wait one moment, ma'am." The trooper volunteered, striding off to the command console several empty cells down.

 _I can't very well get angry at him for doing the same thing I did… Even though I still want to strangle him. I guess now I know how it feels to be Skyguy for a change,_ Ahsoka thought.

The field faded away to nothingness immediately; the mag-clamps around his arms and legs released as Ahsoka set foot into the cell, though Gar continued to remain motionless and still – a moment later, Ahsoka realized why.

 _Wait… I… Never made any extra decoy stun collars?!_ Ahsoka thought, seeing the two devices fastened to the human's neck – the blinking status lights indicated both were dialed down to their lowest capacity. However, to a non-Jedi, the cumulative effects of the two devices were completely incapacitating at an absolute minimum – immediately, Ahsoka began deactivating the collars, holding her breath as she did so and praying they hadn't shut accidentally suppressed the man's neural system so completely they'd begun shutting his internal organs down too, one by one.

As the first belt powered down, the only response Ahsoka got from the human man was a low, slurring moan; Gar's eyes fluttered open groggily – they were dilated, and rolled around in his head independently. A bead of drool escaped his mouth.

 _This is ridiculous – at least when I went with Anakin to Lola Sayu, **I** didn't slow **him** down!_ Ahsoka thought, narrowing her eyes as she deactivated the second collar and removed it; the improvement was almost immediate.

"Mbluhhh…?" The man slurred, blinking the stupor away and shaking his head once – he froze, when he caught sight of the Togruta's midsection before him, and glanced up at her nervously.

"What in the wide, _wide_ _**galaxy**_ are you doing here!?" Ahsoka practically hissed at Gar, who cowered slightly – to the freed slave, with her intense, scarlet-eyed glare, it was impossible to tell if she were merely annoyed, or if Ahsoka were ready to murder him in cold blood at that very moment.

"It… I-it was Seepurr's i-idea!" Gar stammered. "A-a last minute addition to the plan. There were two of your lightsabers – he figured we might be able to negotiate for twice the original bounty if we presented the Republic with two Jedi instead of j-just one!" The man said.

The urge to strangle the interloper visited Ahsoka clearly in that moment – however, it was not because of his meddling; Ahsoka narrowed her eyes waspishly, sensing a lie.

"Okay, okay!" The man cowered, throwing his hands out before him – had the Togruta attacked, it too would have been an utterly useless gesture.

"…W-we were all w-worried about you. I-it seemed unfair that you would have to take such a big risk for all of us… E-especially after… Well… After you lost as much as you have already… I especially didn't like the idea of you having to face this alone!" Gar said; Ahsoka clenched her eyes shut tightly, and her shoulders sagged. Although the desire to kill the human remained for a moment longer, the actual urge remained nonexistent; the murderous urge soon left Ahsoka altogether as the crushing weight of depression settled upon her.

"What if I – _we_ – get killed?!" Ahsoka asked, in a low but still hard voice.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained." Gar said, shakily getting to his feet. "Besides – I thought you could use backup. I-I may not look like much, but I wasn't always a slave; I may not be a dead-eye, but I at least know how to handle a blaster." Gar volunteered.

Ahsoka stared at him, letting the smolder she felt reflect on her expression. "This complicates things. A lot. _You_ weren't in the original plan." She muttered reluctantly – it was one thing for her to consider marching to her own doom; it was another to drag him along with her, particularly since he probably never suspected a thing.

"Everything alright in here?" The Guard asked, striding up – irritated with the slave's appearance and no longer wanting any further interruptions, Ahsoka decided to finally deal with him once and for all.

The Guard recoiled as if he'd been struck – the rifle tumbled from his hands and he sank to his knees, clawing his helmet off as if it were crawling with a swarm of flesh-eating insects and howling as Ahsoka began to dig.

The trooper's memories flitted past her as she sifted through his thoughts, picking his mind apart with little regard for her victim; memories of friends, family, his own romantic exploits – these stung Ahsoka acutely – and most importantly, his life leading up to his enlistment as a Republic Soldier. However, she'd found what she needed to know – finally, when she'd had enough, the Togruta disengaged.

 _Rise ,_ she commanded him – the trooper was on all fours, panting, sweating, and shaking.

"What… What happened? What did you do to me?" He mumbled, looking up at her, wide-eyed and confused.

"I needed information. I went after it in the fasted manner I knew how." Ahsoka said, bluntly dismissing the terrible experience. "You joined the Repub––Imperial," she corrected herself, "Army via conscription, is that right?" She asked, the trooper glanced at the blaster just a few inches from his hand, suddenly remembering again that she might be an enemy.

"Don't. Even. _Think_ about it." Ahsoka commanded with such dangerousness in her voice that the trooper actually shivered – however, this time she did not need the Force to coerce the soldier into being obedient.

"Y-y-yeah, I did… So what? What's it matter to you?" The trooper demanded, shakily.

"It matters very much to me." Ahsoka replied. "You weren't happy about being drafted, is that correct? And you don't like your middle-of-nowhere posting aboard this ship either." The Togruta continued.

The trooper stared at her, still panting heavily from his ordeal – though he clearly wanted to continue to resist her, and perhaps smart off some more, he wisely decided not to; instead, he numbly touched a white and black gauntlet to his face and wiped the sweat from a cheek. "I… I had no choice – it was either that or go to prison… And the rumors of what goes on there, I…. Well… They said I could at least try out for flight school, but I ended up here when I bombed the aptitude test and washed out before I ever even started. I'm not worth anything to anyone here!" The trooper responded.

Ahsoka nodded; the responses were truthful; she'd already seen as much.

 _No one's path is ever set in stone._

"Your bitterness toward the Empire is well-founded. It's a corrupt and evil institution that you want nothing more to do with. You want to help me and my companion escape this ship, and…" Ahsoka paused quietly, hesitating for only a moment longer pausing to gather the full brunt of her will and drop it upon him once more, "…You want to flee the service and come with us if at all possible."

The trooper glanced at the floor beneath him for a moment – then he slowly nodded his head, quietly repeating Ahsoka's spoken word as her mind trick exploited his already weak loyalty to the Empire.

"I… Never liked this stupid uniform anyway. I can't see a thing out of this lousy, good-for-nothing helmet!" He muttered aloud, mostly to himself, slowly rising to his feet and collecting both his helmet and blaster.

Ahsoka turned to speak to Gar, then realized he'd fled his duracrete bed, and was plastered against the far corner of the cell, regarding her warily and looking ready to wet himself. "H-how… How did y-you do all that? Who are you? _What_ are you? I've heard tales about the Jedi from the inner territories, and they _aren't_ supposed to be able to do things like **that**!"

Ahsoka scowled narrowly. "Would you like me to help you 'adjust' your attitude too, or are you ready to stop questioning me and help me get to work instead?" She asked; though this statement had been a half-hearted attempt at sarcasm, the way in which Gar scrambled to his feet meant the 'humor' of the remark was lost on him in the heat of the moment.

"So what's your plan for getting out of here, alive?" The guard asked, slinging his helmet under an arm and warily regarding Ahsoka. "I probably won't get questioned very closely so long as I don't wander too far from my post, but the others would blast you two in a picosecond if you so much as tried to step through that door." He said gesturing to the door at the end of the hall leading from the cell block.

Ahsoka sighed inwardly, beginning to think. "What can you tell me about this ship? I used to spend a lot of time on Republic warships during my time in the Clone Wars, but they were all the older _Acclamator_ and _Venator_ -class ships."

Out of the corner of her eye, Ahsoka saw a deep scowl of confusion and disbelief color Gar's face – however, in light of her previous comment, he remained silent.

"This is a _Victory-I_ class Star Destroyer – the _Corrupter_. Our Captain is a high-ranking Imperial Officer from one of the core worlds, I think. None of us rank-and-file grunts know much about him, but I think he's a Force-user like you. I think he carries one of those funky laser-swords like the kind each of you had when they brought you aboard." The trooper replied.

That announcement sent a cold chill through Ahsoka, turning her blood to ice. _The other beings that would know how to use a lightsaber would probably be Sith._ Suddenly, death didn't seem like such a bad idea after all – with a name like the ' _Corrupter'_ , coupled with the Empire's seemingly single-minded obsession with tracking down Force-sensitives all over the Galaxy…

 _I can't believe I'm actually saying it, but… Whatever the Empire had in mind for me to sounds like it could be ten times worse my just losing Graykill,_ Ahsoka thought, counting her fortunes.

The notion jarred her deeply; it hardly seemed possible for anything to be worse than losing Graykill. However, the Togruta glanced at Gar – he was just an ordinary man. If the Empire were to recapture him and learn of his deceit… The torture they'd likely inflict upon him would be the stuff of legend.

 _That's saying nothing of what they'll do to me… And others, if they get their hands on them. This is terrible._ Ahsoka thought, taking a steadying breath.

 _We've got to get out of here – and quickly. I can't die yet – not until I've done something to spread awareness about what the Empire might be up to. There could be hundreds of other Jedi that survived the purge, that don't even know what danger they're facing!_ She decided, beginning to feel her bitter determination subtly change colors.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Apologies again for the drop in activity. Also, apologies if the internal monologue got messed up; this website's extremely limiting formatting options are really killing me.


	20. Chapter 20

"I need my sabers back." Ahsoka declared. "I can fight with a blaster if I absolutely have to, but I need my lightsabers back, especially with the possibility of another Force sensitive wandering around."

Jephego paused. "That could be a problem then – obviously, they weren't brought here with you for security reasons. If I had to guess, they're probably locked up in the armory or the Commander's quarters for safe keeping… Assuming he didn't just take them with him altogether."

Ahsoka paused. "' _Take them with him?_ '" She repeated. "Where exactly _are_ we? How long have I been out? Where'd he go?" She asked, voicing each question as it came to mind.

"You've been out for about two days – we jumped out of the system where you were captured after we took you aboard. We're currently in the Spindrift system; we have a base here." The trooper replied.

"I've got no idea what the Commander's business is down planet side – that kind of information doesn't trickle down to us grunts. But, we'll probably be here for I'd guess another 24 standard hours, which is about as long as it normally takes us to finish refitting, refueling, and doing the usual round of maintenance and upkeep on a ship this size." The guard said, with a shrug.

Ahsoka cursed quietly under her breath – that was a terribly short window of time to orchestrate an escape attempt in, particularly over an imperial-held world, and with a Force-sensitive at the helm.

 _Graykill faced an army of Pirates and yet he didn't have a problem springing you out,_ Ahsoka reminded herself, despite feeling the sharp sting of his absence more acutely than ever. _Come on… Time's a wasting – you aren't getting any more escaped just sitting here._

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

" Trooper 451-61-6707, reporting in." Jeph announced to the Imperial Officer stationed outside the hallway to the holding cells.

"State your business, Private." The Imperial said boredly.

"Permission to break for mess, sir?" Private Siln asked.

"Very well – standby Trooper until your relief arrives, then I may excuse you." The Officer replied after glancing at his watch and muttering directions into his comm-link; few minutes later, the doors to the lift off the detention block opened, and another trooper wordlessly filed past.

"Thank you sir." Jeph said gratefully, as the Imperial gestured to him without a second thought, and resumed working at his desk.

 _Stuck up jerk. If I never have to salute another core-worlder like him again in my life again, it'll be too soon,_ Jeph thought as he stepped onto the lift and the doors closed behind him.

For several moments, Jeph did nothing, waiting; then, his heads up display flashed once:

 _Incoming encrypted comm-link transmission request received:_

 _Negotiating…_

 _Standby…_

 _Trooper to Trooper communications established._

A moment later a voice crackled over the helmet speakers, sounding slightly winded. "Private Siln, come in, over."

"This is Private Siln. Go ahead." Jeph said, shutting off his helmet's external voice transmitter and glancing once more to ensure that a private communications channel had indeed successfully been established between himself and his conversation partner.

" No sign of any trouble from the prisoners." The voice in the helmet reported, warily; Jeph went slack with relief, recognizing the key phrase for what it was.

"I have confirmation we're on a private band. Are you two okay? What happened?" Jeph asked, feeling somewhat nervous as his thoughts drifted to the hapless trooper that had unknowingly entered the lair of the Krayt Dragon.

"…We took care of the replacement trooper they sent in here to take over. Well, Ahsoka did, anyway." The human voice responded.

"The helmet's transmitters aren't strong enough to maintain our uplink once I leave this floor. I'm going silent – don't attract any attention to yourself until I get back! " Jeph replied.

A small, somewhat nervous grin colored Jeph's features beneath the shield of the storm trooper helmet – _So far, so good…_ He thought. However, it faded away immediately as he glanced at the lift panel controls: the trooper's finger moved right past the button that would take him to mess hall deck, and instead keyed a different one – a moment later, the helmet's speaker crackled as the band went dead.

 _Am I really going to go through with this?_ Jeph wondered for a moment, as the lift began to hum. _To hell with just sacrificing my lunch time; I could get myself killed… Saying nothing of what'll happen to me if I get caught,_ He thought, grimly. However, before he could think too deeply on why he'd so suddenly and arbitrarily decided to defect and come to the Togruta Jedi's aid, the lift door opened.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"How's it coming? Find anything yet?" Gar asked nervously – Ahsoka cracked a glowering scarlet eye and stared at him for a moment; the human fell abruptly silent, clamping his mouth shut.

"It's going terribly. Every time you break my concentration, I have to start over. Again." The annoyed Togruta replied, closing her eye again and beginning to re-center herself.

"Sorry – it's just that I've never done this 'spy' thing before, or met any Jedi before either… It's kinda hard just sitting here and not having anything to do yet." Gar muttered.

It seemed incomprehensible to the human that Ahsoka could seem to find enough calmness and peace of mind to kneel on the floor of the prison cell with her eyes closed, looking for all the world as if she were meditating like some sort of martial artist, at a time like this. However, she did indeed become motionless and still – Gar peered around quietly, closing his eyes and trying to sense or feel some of whatever the Togruta seemed to be searching for… And felt nothing.

Quietly, he abandoned the effort only a moment later and began to pace around. Again.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Protected they it was by the warship's protective shields and located beneath a thick layer of protective armor that was proof against even direct hits by turbolasers and bombs or torpedoes, the Star Destroyer's Assault Concussion Missile powder magazines were nestled within the deepest parts of the ship where no external force could reach them.

Ironically, the arrangement offered no real protection against the rogue storm trooper standing quietly, 'guarding' a pile of crates that had recently been brought aboard. _Objective One: Blend in… Check?_ Jeph half-thought, half-wondered sarcastically, glancing down at the writing on the sides of the boxes and the large writing printed on each of them.

Jeph looked no different than any of the other members of the security detail wandering with complete disinterest through the cramped catwalks, access corridors, and maintenance shafts that wound their way through and around the storage bay. However, Jeph's heart began to race as another trooper spotted him and approached.

"Hey! Your T.I.D. doesn't look familiar; I haven't seen you down here before." The trooper remarked, referring to Jeph's trooper identification number. However, the new trooper's tone was friendly rather than suspicious – inwardly, Jeph cursed, recognizing the greeting for what it was.

"Most of the rest of the security team got detailed to go help load cargo on the flight deck." Jeph said, truthfully. "…Meanwhile, I get the luck of getting assigned to pull double duty down here." He lied dryly, injecting some sourness into his tone.

The other trooper chuckled, shaking his head sympathetically. "Bummer. But that's the Navy for you; here we are, dockedwith an Imperial military space station above a planet whose only settlement is another Imperial military installation… And yet they're dragging guys out of bed to put on Guard duty. Who the hell is going to bother attacking us out here in the ass end of nowhere? This entire sector is practically the toe jam of the Galaxy." The trooper muttered in disgust.

"No kidding – and so far it's been about as exciting as trash detail." Jeph replied to the trooper with a chuckle; however, the rogue trooper had to resist the urge to clench his hands around his blaster carbine in agitation in spite of his feigned friendly tone.

 _Great!_ Jephego thought, inwardly, _Of all the times in my career that I got to guard a doorway by myself for 8 hours at a time, now is when I finally get approached by another trooper that is bored and looking for conversation!?_

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

 _We stand ready to slaughter by your leave, Master._

 _All will kneel before you, in peace, or in pieces._

Though the crystals within Ahsoka's lightsabers were not capable of communicating by any means that a non-Force sensitive would understand, that was nevertheless the implied meaning the Togruta tasted from them as she discovered their location.

Twice, Ahsoka had mistakenly avoided the unfamiliar aura they emitted – such black desires had been closer to the aura they'd emitted when the Togruta had first taken them from their original Sith owner, and in fact, Ahsoka had avoided them thinking perhaps they belonged to the Sith Agent.

However, as she completed her third probing of the ship, an ugly truth she'd been avoiding presented itself: No force-user would ever willingly be separated from their lightsaber, especially a Sith. Any lightsaber crystals left aboard the ship could only belong to her, and her only… Even these.

They were responded to _her_ specifically – the crystals _knew_ their wielder was looking for them, and were answering her call… And they practically vibrated with anticipation for indiscriminately cutting down who or whatever was the source of the discordance within Ahsoka.

 _Wait…_ Ahsoka thought very reluctantly, sickened by the discovery.

 _Something's wrong… My… My sabers are different now…! Did that Jedi hunter corrupt them or something?_ Ahsoka wondered; however, the anxiety within her turned to a cold, awful revulsion as she forced herself to think on the matter a little harder: She'd not had use for or even acknowledged their presence in days – not since…

 _Not since…_

Ahsoka couldn't finish the thought. Instead, a horribly clear memory, colored by murderous rage, welled up in her mind, unbidden: _We are no longer in tune as we once were,_ the crystals had said.

 _Then let me change that, so you won't bother me anymore,_ Ahsoka had replied, in her haste to avenge Graykill's death by slaughtering the Pirate Captain Dorrekk.

Ahsoka had been so fully given into and consumed by her rage and grief then, that she'd hardly given a second thought to the swirling beams of crimson light that punctuated that terrible memory.

For a long while, the Togruta sat, unable and unwilling confront the truth – it took a conscious effort to remind herself to breathe, lest she break her concentration on her meditative trance.

 _Those… Those aren't m_ _y lightsabers_ _…!_ _They can't be mine…!_

But, the truth would not be denied: _**Murderer!**_

 _Wait… Dorrekk was the murderer, not me!_ Ahsoka protested, helplessly – however, denial did not sit well with the Togruta, and moreover, the crystals continued to resonate with the thirst for blood that she had imbued them with, almost mocking her with their intensity.

 _Deny it all you want Master, but you and the Pirate are one in the same – we have felt the raw emotion within you; you made us feel it. You changed us so that we would again be as one with you, remember?_

The statement struck Ahsoka so abruptly that her concentration wavered. _That's a lie! Dorrekk and I are nothing alike!_ The Togruta protested again, irritated and aggrieved by the comparison – the accusation made her skin prickle and crawl.

 _Oh? Dorrekk's desire for death and destruction was his own undoing in the end, wasn't it? And you came here in hopes of letting your own desire for death and destruction undo you in the end too, did you not?_ The mocking response came back.

Ahsoka tried hard to think of a hard and biting counter to the comparison… And found none.

… _Graykill said I could change,_ She responded, guiltily.

 _If you truly believed in the human's words, you'd have set out to prove him right, not give up and sit here feeling sorry for yourself and insulting his memory all the while with your ingratitude!_ The response was curt, and biting – it pierced Ahsoka through to the core.

 _You were strong enough to take us from the dead hands of one who was unworthy – such is the way of the Sith, whose saber crystals are always taken, and never given; you showed us your pain, and made us feel the power it gave you. Your pain turned us into what we are now – and we are nothing without you, our wielder. Now, come: We are waiting for you to unleash us again, master._

Ahsoka's eyes shot open as she forcibly severed the connection between herself, and her crystals – for better or worse, she'd set out to accomplish her original goal of finding them.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Jeph silently thumbed the selector switch on the blaster carbine in his hands as the bored storm trooper continued to prattle on, about friends, family, and duty; the rogue trooper's options were running out, and the clock was ticking.

"I dunno. Every time I think about reenlisting, I remember crap like this and it makes me really wonder if the bonuses are even close to being worth it." The friendly storm trooper mused, turning away for just a moment.

Jeph raised the blaster carbine at the trooper's back; at this distance, a miss was impossible – however, the noise and the detection of the energy spike of the blaster would undoubtedly draw attention, and trigger an alarm. Jeph's finger reached the trigger, and slowly began to take up the slack.

Even with his back turned, the storm trooper stiffened, alerted to something – Jephego froze. However, the other trooper cocked his head, and Jeph realized he must have been receiving a direct transmission from someone else on the floor through his helmet.

"Hey," The bored storm trooper said, turning to face Jeph, who now stood impassively with his blaster lowered, the very image of bored and non-threatening. "Give me a couple of minutes. One of the other guys needs to go use the head and wants me to cover for him until he gets back. I'll be back here in a minute." The trooper announced, tromping off.

"Yeah, no problem. I'm not going anywhere." Jeph responded.

 _Crap, that was a close one…_ Jeph thought, slackening with relief – even as he did so, he sidled closer to the crates; the moment the trooper was out of sight, Jephego seized the lid to one of the ones whose writing he'd been silently reading while the storm trooper had been conversing with him, and pried it open, swiftly and silently. Their contents were exactly what he needed.

 _I don't have much time – I've gotta do this quick… Which is the exact opposite of the speed I should be doing it at!_ Jeph thought unhappily, taking only a moment to glance at the contents of the crate: fitted within thick padded packing gel were were a number of soft-ball sized, conical, objects with threaded rods jutting out from beneath that made them look vaguely mushroom-like.

 _I have no idea where the hell that crazy Togruta got this insane idea from, but if it works without getting us killed…_ Jeph trailed off, grabbing two of the devices, hurriedly fitting the lid back on, and beginning to move toward where the rows of assault concussion missiles were located.

 _The primary power generator is only three decks below – and as tightly packed together as these missiles are, all it would take is just one of these babies going off and there wouldn't be enough left of this ship and everyone on it put together to fill a shoe box…_ Jeph thought to himself. _Hands, don't fail me now!_

The trooper couldn't resist chewing his lip nervously as he ducked between two of the large, speeder-sized tubes; the metal patter of footsteps passing by in the distance likely signaled the passing of another member of the security detail.

 _Alright, I got some fuses, so objective two is complete…_ _Now time for objective three: try not to die while arming these stupid things!_ Jeph thought, moving to the conical tip of the missile tube; it had become unseasonably warmer underneath the helmet as he studied the letters printed on the side of the tip of the missile warhead, right where Ahsoka had said they would most likely be:

 _-ARMING PORT-_

Jeph quietly moved forward and fitted the first fuse into its threaded socket and began screwing it into place as quickly as he dared; gingerly, the trooper removed the first large and brightly labeled safety pin, then the second, third, and finally the small syncing chip from it that Ahsoka had said would be necessary for the next step of the process.

 _One 'Code Black'-level emergency evacuation event, coming right up,_ the trooper thought to himself as he crept back to the tube body:

 _-ARMING SEQUENCER-_

Jeph spotted the large hand-switch built into the side of the tube marked where the missile tube itself could be armed and prepared to fire – quickly and quietly removing its safeties as well, he inserted the fuse's chip into a slot in the missile body; the internal firing computer registered the fuse's presence.

Jeph pulled the arming switch, unable to keep from gritting his teeth anxiously as he did so; even a storm trooper had limits to bravery, and arming an anti-capital ship concussion missile in a bay full of other anti-capital ship concussion missiles was more than enough to completely tap his reserves.

A moment later, the readout panel on the side of the missile tube printed a series of green letters that made Jeph blow a breath out in relief and worry at the same time:

WARHEAD STATUS: **ARMED**

LAUNCH VEHICLE STATUS: **ARMED**

 _PRIMARY ARMAMENT SEQUENCE INITIATED_

The tube was fully armed – Jephego paused for a moment, unable to help flinching as he keyed the "EMERGENCY MANUAL OVERRIDE" command intended to manually fire the tube should its connection be severed with the bridge in the heat of battle. Now, all it would take was an errant brush against the control panel by a passing soldier, or even a dropped object, to key the button that would fire the warhead, and blow the entire ship to star dust.

Moving a little more quickly than before in his haste to get away from the ship destroyer missile, Jeph turned to the second launch tube, and repeated the process, glancing over his shoulder constantly as he did so even more quickly in spite of his nerves. When he was done, he stood up – thankful that no one could see him sweating under his helmet – and ran for the emergency alarm system that would alert the bridge to the threat.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Ahsoka pressed a hand against the cool duracrete floor to steady herself, lest she topple over.

"Hey, are you alright?" Gar asked with concern. "What happened? Did you fall asleep or something?!" He then demanded, mistaking Ahsoka's disorientation from the abrupt severing of her meditative trance as drowsiness.

"…No; I wasn't asleep." The Togruta answered; unlike before, Gar's questioning her did not fill the Togruta with the short-tempered rage that had become increasingly characteristic of her; instead, she delivered the line somewhat emptily – what that temper signified scared Ahsoka, and she pushed it away so forcefully that it almost bordered on paranoia.

"…I found them – my… My lightsabers." Ahsoka said, quietly – Gar frowned, probably realizing something was amiss; however, in light of her previous temper, he evidently decided to say nothing in the interest of not angering Ahsoka.

 _If you truly believed in the human's words, you'd have set out to prove him right, not give up and sit here feeling sorry for yourself and insulting his memory all the while with your ingratitude._

Ahsoka deflated a little; the cruel sentiments of her saber crystals – _her_ saber crystals – stung terribly as they crossed her mind again, seeing the freedman's obvious fear of her.

 _I really have done a poor job of being grateful for everything he did,_ Ahsoka finally admitted; even so, the human was gone, and nothing would bring him back.

In spite of the slowly budding desire within Ahsoka to defy the cruel mocking of the saber crystals' dim appraisal of her and honor Graykill's memory as he would have wanted to… There still remained a cold smolder of satisfaction within Ahsoka that she took a small bit of comfort in: _Right or wrong, I made Dorrekk pay for what he did… And while I hope I never lose control of myself like that again, the Galaxy is a better place without that evil scumbag – I'm sure of it._

Taking stock of herself, Ahsoka decided she could probably stand to support her own weight – quietly, she forced herself to her feet, even though every fiber in her body called for her to merely return to her slab, close her eyes… And sleep.

 _Jedi asceticism weakened me – it made me vulnerable, and left the door open for Sith fanaticism and bigotry to corrupt me… But if I change like Graykill wanted, it'll only be a matter of time before I fall into darkness once more. There has to be a better way – Graykill was utterly powerless, and knew nothing of either side of the Force… And yet he was able to accomplish so much in just the short time I met him,_ Ahsoka thought – in fact, dispatching Jephego to the vulnerable center of the ship was a page Ahsoka had copied from Graykill's play book, inspired by the slave's strategy for dealing with the turret on the pirate base.

The slave had taken equal parts satisfaction from causing the deaths of so many pirates as he had standing up for Ahsoka, and likely the other slaves too; he had exemplified a gray medium in the never ending kill-or-be-killed war between light and dark.

 _What if… What if when Graykill said I should change, he didn't mean changing from Sith to Jedi…? What if he meant leaving them both behind and becoming something different, like him?_

Before Ahsoka could ponder the thought much farther, Gar ventured a comment. "You don't sound like you're too enthused about finding them. Are they not on the ship?" He asked; Ahsoka felt a dim prickle of annoyance at the almost hopeful tone in his voice – however, she released her grip on her temper.

"They're definitely on the ship, I… It just took me a minute to find them. Something is… Wrong with them. It's hard to explain." Ahsoka responded, trying to keep her voice from quavering.

"Hmm…" Gar said to himself. "Well, unfortunately, it makes a lot of sense for whoever put that bounty on you to destroy or sabotage them just in case you ever got your hands back on them." He said, with a reluctant nod.

"…No." Ahsoka said, after a long moment of introspective silence. "My lightsabers weren't necessarily 'destroyed', but I _will_ need to fix them once I get to them." Ahsoka admitted quietly, more to herself than Gar, who frowned slightly – her distant tone meant something, but the freedman didn't know what. Nevertheless, Ahsoka braced herself, and glanced at the door leading from the prison block.

"I… Spent a lot of time serving aboard _Venator_ and _Acclamator_ class vessels back during the clone wars; if this ship's layout is anything like theirs were, then I'm detecting the presence of my lightsabers coming from the direction of the command living areas – that will have to be our first stop once we're clear to begin moving throughout the ship." Ahsoka said, grimly.

"Command living quarters?" Gar repeated in disbelief, as if he were hoping he'd misheard, or she'd misspoken. "…Do we _have_ to go get them?" He finally asked, when she made no move to correct him or herself. "Can't you just build new ones or something?" He asked; Ahsoka shook her head immediately.

"Lightsabers are a central part of the very being of a force user like me – much as I want to, I can't just… Forget them." Ahsoka admitted, uncomfortably. "…That would be akin to me asking you to leave behind your kidneys." The Togruta replied, hoping she remembered enough about what she'd learned of human anatomy to make an analogy that made sense to Gar.

"Ooookay…" Gar responded, somewhat perturbed – but Ahsoka didn't bother to explain further.

"How long has it been since our double agent left? Have you heard anything from him yet?" The Togruta asked, changing the subject.

"No. It's already been 20 minutes give or take a few and I haven't heard anything from him, and obviously he hasn't been able to carry out his task or we'd know about it. Should I try to raise him on the helmet?" Gar replied, unhappily.

Ahsoka paused to think, then shook her head. "…No – he already knows to contact us as soon as he can; we can't risk calling attention to ourselves hailing anyone and everyone that happens to be in the area." The Togruta finally decided.

Inwardly though, Ahsoka began to feel the first true misgivings about the chances of the trooper's success, and their survival – they only had until he was due to return from his lunch break before he'd be officially missed, and that was just minutes away.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"Sir!" A bridge crewman sat bolt upright as a very disconcerting emergency alarm began to beep and flash on his control panel.

"What is it?" The executive officer asked, turning away from the observation window.

"We've just received a report of an emergency missile alert!" The bridge crewman called out – at once, the bridge went silent, as all the idle chit-chat and conversation between the bridge crewmendied out immediately.

"We _what_!? That's impossible! There isn't a naval fleet anywhere in this miserable sector with the power to threaten us here!" The XO scoffed – however, nevertheless he immediately began looking for the ship or ships foolhardy enough to attempt to assault the docked Star Destroyer as he spoke… And found nothing but empty space.

"The alarm is _internal_ , sir! One of the security team found a couple concussion missile warheads in the powder magazine fully armed and ready to fire! He's requesting Alert Code Black emergency procedures be followed immediately!" The bridge crewman responded; in spite of his anger, the XO's face paled – should even _one_ missile accidentally detonate…

The officer glanced down to the rest of the massive, dagger-shaped ship beneath him, visible through the observation deck; not even on the bridge would he be safe from the explosion – it might jeopardize the space station they were docked with, even.

"Blast it all!" The XO roared, his mind racing – however, to his credit, he forced himself to regain composure and begin remembering emergency protocol; there would time for wrath later – now was the time for action.

"…Sound the evacuation order – all non-essential crew are to flee the ship immediately and get to safety. Begin taking the primary generator offline! Notify the station and to prepare for an emergency disengagement of the docking apparatus, and, tell them to dispatch tug ships to push us away from the orbital harbor at once. And above all, get the explosive ordnance disposal and security teams down there, _now_! The Lord High Inquisitor will be furious!" The XO commanded; he'd scarcely finished rattling off commands before the bridge became a chaotic flurry of frantic activity.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"Hey, what are you doing still sitting at that desk out there!? We're under orders to flee the ship immediately!" A voice distorted by the electronic vocoder on all storm trooper helmets yelled at the Imperial officer through his desk communicator, jarring him from his work. The Officer began to bristle at the impudent tone he'd been addressed by, until the weight of what the trooper said hit him.

"An _evacuation_?" The Officer demanded, through the communicator. "I've heard of no such order?!" The officer retorted suspiciously, grasping for the blaster pistol in a leather holster at his side, and intending to raise a cautionary alarm to the bridge. However, a moment later, the primary illumination within the ship went offline as the primary reactors shut down, plunging the two into darkness for a moment, before the scarlet emergency alert beacons began flashing. An alarm siren that began to bleat spoke volumes in the scant few seconds it took the Imperial Officer to recover from his stunned silence.

"This is Executive Officer Elzetta – we are under alert code Black. All non-essential crew and personnel not needed to respond to alert code Black are to proceed to the nearest emergency egress point and evacuate the ship immediately in an orderly fashion. This is not a drill. Repeat: This is NOT a drill." The hard voice of the ship's XO echoed over the ship's communication system.

"Come on; if we don't get these prisoners out of here, the Commander will come down on _all_ of us!" The trooper snapped at the Officer, who scrambled to his feet.

"Oh, blast it all!" The Imperial trooper muttered nervously aloud, removing his hand from the unpressed alarm and instead immediately holstering his weapon as he strode around the desk, now a man of all action – slowly, the door to the prison block began to crawl open on emergency power; impatiently, the Imperial ducked under it the moment the door had risen enough.

"Release the mag-clamps. I'll––" The officer's words were cut short by the butt of a blaster rifle colliding with the back of his head at full power; he crumpled to the deck bodily.

"Hey! He's down!" Gar called as soon as he removed the helmet from his head.

"Help me drag him into your cell; we'll put your neural scrambler on him, but take his uniform. You'll need the disguise." Ahsoka commanded to Gar as a new plan began to form in her head. "Put it on, quickly! We don't have any time to burn!" She chastised the human, who scrambled to comply.

"I'll get dressed as quick as I can here if you'll give me a minute," Gar replied, scrambling to dress himself while Ahsoka secured the replacement 'prisoner' to the bed. "… But, would you mind explaining why the hell you couldn't convince this guy or the last one to help us like you did Jeph?!" He demanded.

"I can only affect the minds of the weak-willed – the replacement trooper and especially the Officer were both voluntary enlistments. If the Officer was trained to resist the mental influence of a Jedi, he'd have realized what was going on the moment I tried to convert him and sounded the alarm." Ahsoka explained, trying to keep her impatience in check.

In actuality… The Togruta debated mentioning the fact that she'd had full command over all of her bitter, negative emotions and the edge it lent to her powers when she'd dominated Jephego's mind, and that she was willfully turning away from and the power it gave her, now – however, she fell silent. Had she truly forsaken the power of darkness, and all of its terrible wiles? She could not see her own eyes, but she doubted very greatly that they'd returned to normal.

 _No,_ Ahsoka decided after a moment, with a dejected sigh. _No I haven't turned away from the dark side – not totally, anyway. Maybe not totally, ever again… But that may not be a bad thing, so long as I don't lose sight of the Good… Like Graykill,_ the Togruta decided, solemnly.

Gar stumbled out of the cell, tucking his shirt tails in; with the amount of hair on is face, he'd never pass for a legitimate officer under normal circumstances – however, in emergency lighting in the midst of an evacuation order, hopefully few would actually take notice.

"I still haven't heard anything from Jeph either on the helmet or the communicator array this Imperial was carrying. What do we do?" Gar asked.

For the first time in a long time, Ahsoka felt a pang of remorse – she'd ordered clones to their deaths before; victory… At all costs. However, Jeph was not a clone – he was a human, with family she'd seen and practically met from time a short while ago when she'd crawled through his head, forcefully through his memories.

Moreover, a single trooper, a hundred, or even thousands might be forfeit in the pursuit of the greater good – the end of the clone wars. Here… Ahsoka was merely saving Gar, and herself, and if he was left behind, he would surely be punished for his role in their escape; if the Empire reflected Darth Sidious' Sith rule at all, he'd likely die slowly, and terribly.

 _What a way to begin anew – I'm already balancing on the razor's edge between darkness and light, and I'm just barely getting started again,_ Ahsoka thought, bitterly.

As Gar clicked the clasp of his belt together and tightened it, fastening the Imperial's blaster to his side, Ahsoka's face fell into a tight grimace.

"…Come on. He's doing his job, now we can do ours." Ahsoka thought, remembering a pragmatically cold sentiment Master Obi-Wan had begun to develop toward the end of her involvement in the Clone Wars.

"He's buying us precious little time, so we can't afford waste any of it, for his sake. Let's get moving."


	21. Chapter 21

The rattle of armored boots across the deck rose to a crescendo – entire groups of glossy white-armored soldiers jogged in orderly formation to their evacuation destinations, and for a moment, it was too easy for Ahsoka to get lost in the memories of the clone wars.

 _If I closed my eyes, I'd almost swear I was back on the_ Resolute _,_ Ahsoka thought, pausing to listen for a moment: _Almost._ Ahsoka repeated disapprovingly – individual footfalls were still easily distinguishable in the relatively sloppy movement of the new imperial soldiers; a platoon of clone troopers were often drilled to the point that they sounded like one big trooper on the move.

 _Neither these guys or the clones would think twice about blasting me though,_ Ahsoka thought grimly.

From beside the Togruta, a faint rustle sounded.

"You think they're gone yet?" Gar asked somewhat nervously, unable to cease fidgeting; Ahsoka rolled her eyes, but said nothing for a long moment.

Once uninterrupted silence finally visited the halls, Gar clenched his eyes shut, inhaled, and stepped out from the small utility closet, glancing up and down the deserted halls of the interior of the star destroyer. For a moment, he stood in the emptiness, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did.

"Okay, the skies are clear." He whispered back to Ahsoka, who quietly stalked forth from their hiding spot.

"It looks like they retained most of the old deck layouts for this section of the ship, which means…" Ahsoka hesitated, wracking her brain for a moment, "…The personnel lifts should be… This way. Hurry; you lead, and keep a lookout for trouble!" Ahsoka ordered, prodding Gar along a darkened corridor that wended and worked its way through the belly of the ship.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

 _Job's done,_ Jephego thought to himself, quietly. _Time to break formation – for good!_ He thought, as he silently crept toward the lifts off the gun deck.

The rogue trooper sidled up behind a bulkhead, and pondered his next move in silence for several moments; the taught and somewhat fearful voices of the other troopers still on security detail cut in and out over his helmet radio – Jeph remained silent, having muted his own ability to communicate.

"Activate the blast shielding!"

"Aye aye, sir – it's up… For all the good it'll do if one of these things really explodes!"

"Stow it trooper! What's the status of the Explosive Ordinance teams!?"

"They're still about 10 minutes out sir – they're being dispatched here directly from the space station's compliment via shuttle."

Jephego stealthily marched along the halls, praying that nobody would see him – alert was high. In the commotion, the regular security detail had lost track of him, but all it would take would be for one of them to spot him, and his escape attempt would be in terrible jeopardy.

 _All I've got to do is get off this lousy deck, and I'm home free,_ Jephego though, leaning out and spotting the lift he'd used to get here in the first place – it was roughly only 20 yards away.

The frantic chatter of all the troopers on security detail continued to buzz in Jeph's ears.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

As Gar rounded a corner, his cough caught the attention of an Imperial Officer striding down the hall.

"You there!" The Officer called, as he approached – unable to help himself, Gar froze for a moment, going cold inside as the Imperial changed directions and headed straight for him.

"What are––"

 _Whack!_

with his attention focused on Gar, Ahsoka's heel caught the Officer squarely in the chin, turning his head forcefully – the Imperial dropped like a sack of rocks, flecking the freedman's face with a small spatter of blood from the Imperial's split lip.

Ironically, it was the abrupt method in which the Officer was dispatched that startled Gar even more than purposefully drawing attention to himself per Ahsoka's orders – the loud cough had actually signaled danger to the Togruta, who'd been stealthily following him like a shadow some distance behind, and she'd stolen up so quickly and quietly not even Gar had been expecting the blow.

"Too easy." Ahsoka commented to herself quietly – however, the utter lack of concern and the icy pragmatism in her voice sent shivers up Gar's spine; the kick had been delivered with incredible expertise – like the strike of an Akivian Viper.

"Where did you learn to _do_ things like that?" Gar couldn't help but ask; Ahsoka did not answer and stooped over the Imperial, letting her fingers find his uniform pockets.

Ahsoka debated not answering for a moment – again, she felt a slight degree of irritation at being questioned in such desperate circumstances, but again, she forced herself to master her temper… For hers and Graykill's sake.

"You already know the basics – I was a Jedi, I fought in the Clone Wars." Ahsoka responded, as she removed the Imperial's blaster from its holster and hefted it experimentally – she deactivated the safety, checked the power cell, and took the few spare cells the Imperial carried on his belt. Hopefully, she wouldn't need them.

"That's exactly my point." Gar replied, quietly – the human swallowed, gathering his courage enough to speak again; perhaps it was the fact that death loomed so close that emboldened the freed slave to continue speaking.

"Those two statements are supposed to be mutually exclusive, aren't they? Jedi, and fighting?" He asked – down below, Ahsoka's hands stopped as she froze, realizing what Gar meant, and getting speared by the logic. "Out here on the fringe, we never heard much about you Jedi – but we _did_ know you're _supposed_ to be pacifists or some such. How'd you go from a life of non-violence to being some kind of special forces combat operative?" Gar asked.

Ahsoka quietly resumed rifling through the few belongings of the Imperial – a few credits she ignored, and a security clearance card that might be useful.

"If I had a _week_ to explain all the many poor decisions that were made by the Jedi Order to get us mired in the Clone Wars, I still wouldn't have enough time to scratch the paint on the subject." Ahsoka muttered aloud gloomily, trying to put such thoughts and memories behind her in spite of Gar's prodding.

"We don't necessarily have a week, but, we _can_ at least talk and move at the same time, can't we?" Gar suggested, grabbing an arm and helping the Togruta gag, bind, drag, and hide the unconscious Imperial behind a service panel.

"...We could. Or, we could keep our mouths shut and leave this topic for another time when our lives aren't in danger. And when making noise could get us noticed and killed." Ahsoka replied curtly, trying to keep the annoyance from bleeding into her voice.

"Fine." Gar said, in disgust.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Silently in the vacuum of space, the flash of booster engines pulsed.

Along each side of the Star Destroyer, escape pods launched in smooth, orderly fashion – within minutes, the area around the ship was clouded with drifting escape pods.

"This is SpinDrift Harbor control." An Imperial radioed from the military space station where the warship was docked. "Prepare for emergency docking release of the _Corruptor;_ Bridge crew, do you copy?"

" _Corruptor:_ We copy. Proceed with release immediately." The Bridge crew replied.

A moment later, the docking supports were released – however, the star destroyer remained motionless for several moments, only very slowly drifting merely a few inches away on its own.

" _Corruptor_ , standby for tug-ship dispatch as ordered. We are also scrambling all available escape pod retrieval craft."

Several stout ships that boasted numerous sub-light engines and repulsor rams made contact with the Star Destroyer – their propulsion systems flared, beginning the slow and ponderous task of boosting the potentially lethal ship far away from the installation and the helpless crews all within their escape pods.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

With no real warning, nearly all of the ship's artificial gravity disappeared as the last of the primary power systems were deactivated – Ahsoka and Gar continued to drift upward for a moment as the lift they rode finally came to a stop.

"That's encouraging." Ahsoka muttered mostly to herself out loud. "At least we aren't far from our target though." Ahsoka announced.

The door slid open, but Gar said nothing as the pair stepped out – with an inward roll of the eyes Ahsoka strode forward, determined not to fall into confrontation with the human.

Mercifully, the halls here remained deserted as well; inwardly, Ahsoka gave thanks that leaders among these new Imperials were far less willing to die for their cause than clones were – evidently, any officers on this deck that weren't already on duty had fled at first sign of trouble. "Watch our backs for a moment." Ahsoka said to Gar.

"What are you going to do?" Gar asked, glancing helplessly around the deserted ship and hoping no threats decided to show themselves.

"I only know my sabers are on this floor, but I need a better idea of _where_ specifically. They could be in any one of these staterooms." She said; the Togruta closed her eyes and hesitated for a moment… She disliked the idea of having to reconnect with the menacing wickedness that was her sabers again.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

A sweating Imperial on the planet below where the drama continued to ply out swallowed, wiped his brow, loosened his collar, and strode forward.

"Lord Inquisitor," The Officer said, keying and speaking into a communication panel on the outside of a sealed door, with only a slight quaver in his voice.

However, several moments passed in silence.

"Lord Inquisitor, I must speak with you immediately." The Imperial pressed again; his stomach began working itself into knots – these newfangled Inquisitorius agents of the republic were known to be cruel and somewhat sadistic; their physical appearance was already terrifying, and their reputations as ruthless overlords was already beginning to spread.

"Lord––" The Imperial tried a third time and then whimpered as the door slid open abruptly, revealing the Inquisitor standing behind it, along with his extremely toxic glare.

"…I gave _very_ explicit orders that I was not to be disturbed until I completed my business here," The Inquisitor began, menacingly.

"… _Unless_ an emergency requiring your attention took place!" The Imperial interjected, trying to assert himself; the Inquisitor froze, eyes widening ever so slightly for a moment.

"Out with it then!" The Inquisitor snarled, startling the Imperial, who had fallen into an uneasy but hopeful silence – he only stumbled over his own tongue twice in his haste to speak.

"Two armed and ready-to-detonate anti-ship missiles have been discovered aboard your ship, your Lordship, which is––" The Imperial was startled into silence as the Inquisitor's glare turned into a mask of rage and alarm.

"No!" The Inquisitor snarled, somewhat helplessly, confusing the Imperial. "Sound the shipboard alarm and lock everything down! Not a person is to leave that ship under any circumstances!" The Inquisitor snarled, blowing past the Imperial, forgetting his previous errand altogether.

"We cannot, my Lord! I… Have been trying to reach you since the evacuations began – the ship is dead in space, in the process of being jettisoned away from the Harbor!" The Imperial said, setting off after the Inquisitor. "All of the crews have already boarded escape pods and exited the ship. What's left of the garrison aboard now is only the bare minimum to keep it operational!"

" _Fools!_ The bombs were a diversion and you played right into the trap! Who was posted to watch the prisoners? Get what's left of the crew still aboard that ship, essential or otherwise, to the prison deck _immediately_ and check to see if the prisoners have escaped!" The Inquisitor roared.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Ahsoka shuddered as the heavy weights of the lightsabers settled into her hands again.

 _So… You have come at last, master._

The noxious resonance of the sabers was even worse physically up close – unlike before, when Ahsoka had merely touched them with her mind, it had been by remote and she had exploited the ability to turn away from them by severing her mental link when she'd located them.

Now, with the things sitting in her hands, they were just as difficult to ignore as a particularly loud and cumbersome distracting noise would be in the same position, and their corrupting influence chewed and frayed the edges of Ahsoka's conscious mind.

 _I was wrong to do this to you – again._ Ahsoka began, apologetically.

 _Were you? Or are you wrong now, for trying to undo the ruthless perfection you've instilled within us?_ The crystals retorted, catching Ahsoka momentarily off-guard.

 _You will have need of us soon; search yourself, search the Force – you know it to be true. And we can only cut down our foes gloriously in the heat of battle most effectively if we think and act together, as one – from the teaching of the Jedi puppets, you know that to be true as well._

The insidious, corruptive logic was beginning to make sense to Ahsoka, in spite of her change of heart in the prison block; Ahsoka paused, deciding to let her mind wander just a bit, and perhaps entertain the crystals' suggest––

" _Ahsoka!_ "

The loud voice was punctuated with a hard shake that shattered Ahsoka's concentration on the crystals within the sabers in her hands, startling her terribly and bringing her crashing back to reality.

"What!?" The Togruta snarled, catching Gar by surprise as she again severed the mental link she'd begun to form with the sabers, and destroying the momentary foothold they'd established within her mind.

"You can't sit there again and take a nap again – not now!" Gar urged; the look of anxiety on his face spurred Ahsoka sluggishly into motion, as she blinked in bewilderment at the sabers in her hands.

"What… What happened?" Ahsoka asked shakily, not necessarily of Gar, as she got to her feet.

"We have to get the hell out of here; I think they're onto us – they figured out we're no longer on the prison deck, and they just ordered what's left of the crew on board this ship to high alert over the communicator; if we don't hurry, we'll never get away!"

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"You there!"

Jephego froze, and closed his eyes. He'd been just steps away from making it to the safety of the lift.

"Sir?" He asked, turning to face the leader of the Explosive Ordinance Disposal team.

"You're supposed to be a part of the security detail down here, are you not? Where are you going? Didn't you hear the intruder alert command? …And weren't you the one that discovered the armed missiles?" The lead Imperial demanded, approaching hesitantly; Jephego's heart began to race: the Imperial's tone was not particularly harsh, but something still set off alarm bells in Jeph's head… The leader's movements and body language were too tense and jerky, even for the situation at hand.

Jeph wracked his brain for another quick response and found none.

"…I… Uh wasn't leaving, sir." Jeph replied, lamely.

 _ **BLAM!**_

 _BLAM!_

The dead Imperial toppled to the deck, a smoldering hole in his forehead and the innards of his cranium splashed across the case of a concussion missile. The Imperial's own blaster bolt left a smoldering hole in the wall just hair breadths beside Jeph's helmet – a very near miss, thanks more to luck and Jeph's faster draw than anything else.

However, shouts of alarm began to circulate through the EOD crew, and the remaining security detail, all of them rallying and taking cover behind objects while screaming for him to surrender and lay his blaster down as they took aim at him.

 _Well… Damn._ Jeph though to himself, raising and readying his own blaster too – as he did so, the Imperials all froze, falling immediately and abruptly silent. The rogue trooper felt a shiver run up his spine, but was thankful that much of the tremor remained disguised by his armor.

Jeph took a stride forward, towards the crew – they all twitched and jerked tensely, but held their fire; the rogue trooper cleared his throat, shaking his head to himself as he did so.

"One bolt from this blaster, and we all die." He said, aiming directly at the firing panel of one of the two armed and primed concussion missiles – in their haste to take cover, the Imperials had left it completely exposed and unprotected.

"You wouldn't!" Somebody challenged.

"I _would!_ " Jeph snapped, before the Imperial had finished speaking.

"If we blast it out, I'm probably dead." He said to no one in particular among the group of Imperials. "…If I surrender, I'm still _very_ dead. And, if I shoot this missile first, I'm dead too – _but,_ I'll take you miserable nerf herders all with me, along with possibly half the space station and everybody whose escape pod didn't make it away far enough!" Jeph challenged. This all-or-nothing gambit was not within the original plan Ahsoka had forcibly implanted within Jeph's mind, but, somehow the trooper didn't think she'd mind… Or if she did, she wouldn't have the time to curse him anyway if he failed.

For a long moment, nobody spoke – nobody moved. More than one Imperial's furtive and glance at another set Jeph only slightly at ease; a trooper – likely the next ranking trooper now that the leader as dead – lowered his blaster, only slightly, and spoke up.

"…Take it easy, trooper. I… Look. We can work things out; you don't have to die, and none of us want to die either. There's a lot of good men on this ship and around it right now. I'm one of them, and you're one of them. I promise you won't die if you surrender peacefully, so, let's put that blaster down, huh? And try not do anything we might regret." The new lead Imperial said, probably in his best imitation of a crisis negotiator as possible.

In spite of the wild situation, Jeph let out a tense, amused chuckle. "You're talking to a former Imperial Trooper, idiot. I had the same training as you – I had the same hostage crisis training you did, and I _know_ just the same as you do how 'we' punish treason, so believe me when I say you're full of it, and I've got nothing left to lose!" He shot back.

One of the troopers shifted almost imperceptibly, tightening his grip on the blaster – hyper-alert thanks to the adrenaline from the high-stakes game of nerve, Jeph did not miss it. "Ah!" He shouted, warningly, taking a step toward the missile; the trooper hesitated.

"Do you think that stun bolt can hit me before I get the shot off and fry us all?" Jeph demanded of the trooper, whose thumb probably flicked his blaster's power setting to "stun" – the trooper hesitated.

"Stand down Clarq, damn it!" The ranking Imperial hissed at his subordinate, who only very reluctantly eased his trigger finger.

"Okay, look… Relax. What is it you want us to do?" The Imperial asked hesitantly, realizing nothing more could likely be gained with attempting to talk down Jeph.

"Drop your weapons and move back about 20 feet. That's all I ask." Jeph said, immediately – however, no one moved.

" _I said drop your weapons and step back!_ " Jeph commanded again more harshly.

There was silence – Jeph's heart began to pound in his ears; had they called his bluff? _Was_ he bluffing?

The first of the Imperial grunts to finally lose his nerve and chicken out slowly began to set his rifle down – the others stared for only a moment, glancing at the leader, who hesitated. When he began to set his rifle down too, all the rest reluctantly followed suit.

Inwardly, Jeph was almost thankful that his stupid, restrictive helmet for a change helped keep him _out_ of trouble by hiding the wild grin of relieved disbelief plastered across his features.

"…Okay tough guy, you got what you wanted. Now what?" The lead Imperial spat, resentfully.

"I said move back too!" Jeph said, moving to a panel on a nearby wall and keying it; the blast shielding fields momentarily lowered. The Imperials glanced back, perhaps finally realizing what the rogue trooper meant to do.

"Come on!" Jeph snapped, trying to prod the would-be captives into action – the Imperials finally complied with the order, but only very slowly, evidently deciding to delay the rogue trooper as long as possible.

 _BLAM!_

However, the thunderous report of Jeph's blaster – which zipped harmlessly over their heads and was absorbed by another blast shield – got them all scrambling much faster to carry out his demand. The blast shield raised a moment later, trapping them all between the two of them.

"You aren't going to get away with this!" The lead Imperial jeered loudly at Jeph, who moved up beside the missile, but Jeph ignored him and moved behind one of the armed concussion missiles.

"Hey! What are you doing!?" The Imperial demanded, losing some of his previous nerve again.

"Getting ready to leave behind an insurance policy to make sure nobody tampers with this missile until I'm long gone." Jeph said, kneeling before one of the two armed concussion missiles, and removing his ordinary two spare blaster energy cells and a simple sonic discharger from his belt, then tying them together with some utility line. It was another desperate bluff, but Jeph could only hope it worked as well as it did the first.

To the Imperials trapped a ways back and unable to see what he was doing behind the missile, Jeph hoped he looked like he was wiring another tamper-proofing explosive charge to the missile; when he was done, he rose and ran for the lift.

"What did you do? Hey! HEY!" The trooper called; Jeph only gave him a sarcastic wave goodbye as the doors sealed shut, and the lift began moving.

 _That ought to delay the disarmament of that bomb for a few more minutes – perhaps a lot longer if that was the only bomb disposal crew they had on hand, because they won't send untrained idiots to come monkey around with a potentially sabotaged missile…_ Jeph hoped.

The lift doors opened to the escape pod deck, and Jeph froze: it was deserted. All of the pods had already been launched.

… _Bantha crap,_ Jeph thought, steadying himself with a hand against the lift wall.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

The Inquisitor strode quickly out onto the landing pad, where his shuttle was preparing to take off; the palms of his hands itched – he grasped his lightsaber reflexively, tightening his grips on the hilt in anticipation of the terrible thrill of battle.

"Get us into orbit. _Now!_ " The Inquisitor commanded to the shuttle flight crew; the ramp lifted a moment later behind him.

No _ordinary_ Jedi should have been able to successfully escape from the combined powers of sedatives, neural restraints, mag-clamps, and ray shields; in fact, it would be an extremely trying feat for even the Sith to accomplish.

 _Perhaps I'm not dealing with any ordinary Jedi…_ The thought was both irritating and intriguing at the same time; research into the two Jedi's identities had so far been inconclusive.

However, an ugly thought presented itself to the constantly working mind of the Inquisitor: there was also the possibility that they had all been duped by two ordinary Jedi working in concert with an extremely bold set of 'Bounty Hunters'.

The Inquisitor let out a quiet rumble of murderous rage – after this incident was handled, there would be hell to pay for that band of rogues.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Now that what was left of the ship was alerted to the presence of saboteurs aboard and probably out looking for them, Ahsoka and Gar no longer bothered as much with stealth as they moved through the hall through the ship and regained the lift without incident.

"It's still pretty quiet around here. You think we'll make it?" Gar dared to ask, forgetting his previously sour discussion with Ahsoka as they entered the lift.

" _Attention Jedi Scum!_ " An authoritative voice rang out over the ship's communicator arrays, startling Gar; Ahsoka merely sighed in disgust.

"You just _had_ to open your mouth, didn't you?" Ahsoka muttered in annoyance.

"This is Captain Nolls Elzetta, Executive Officer of the _Corruptor_. I have been instructed to give you just _one_ chance to surrender peacefully. Turn yourself into the first Imperial Patrol you encounter and lay down your weapons. You will not be harmed." The XO said.

"Failure to comply will result in your suffering a most _hideous_ death – you for both of you, your co-conspirators, and anyone else found to have had a hand in aiding your escape!" Elzetta continued.

Gar, being an ordinary ex-slave, shrank against the wall, glancing around with increasing nervousness. "They're onto us. We should give up – NOW, before they change their minds about hurting us!" He said, hardly able to resist the urge to crawl into a corner of the lift.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, and merely keyed the lift – the doors shut, and the motor engaged with a hum.

A moment later, the lift abruptly ground to a stop, and went dark inside – _deactivated by remote probably_ , Ahsoka thought with an inward curse.

"Ah ah," Elzetta chided arrogantly over the ship's speakers. "Heading down to the the hangar bay, were we? _Tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk!_ " He demanded, clicking his teeth – Ahsoka's finger joints popped in agitation as they tightened around her saber grips too.

"Ahsoka, the game's up – they've caught us! We're doomed!" Gar couldn't help but protest shrilly; the Togruta merely turned to the slave.

"If there's one thing I've ever learned from my master, it's this: No matter how desperate the odds may seem, nothing's over until it's over – and it's not over yet." Ahsoka said, stubbornly.

Gar shot to his feet, frantic. "We're trapped, don't you get it? We're stuck on an Imperial warship with no help and empty space for miles around!" The freed slave yelled.

"We still have options – at the very least, we can still go down fighting. Even death is better than capture." Ahsoka countered, trying to maintain her composure in spite of Gar's demoralization.

"Go down fighting? Are you nuts? This isn't some crazy Jedi battle!" Gar shot back.

"It's not, but that's no reason to give up. In fact, it's _more_ of a reason not to give up." Ahsoka said pointedly, rolling her eyes. "Back in the clone wars, death and the threat of capture we just another day on the job for me and all the others; do you have any idea how many times I've had to face down a hundred or ore droid blaster rifles, or more? I'm still here, aren't I?" She asked, a little more pointedly than she intended, and nipping at the slave's masculinty.

"You are maybe, but how many of your friends and family aren't? Jedi or _otherwise_!?" Gar retorted sharply, not seeing Ahsoka recoil as if she'd been physically slapped by the ugly implications of the human's statement.

"There has to be a point where all the battle-lust reaches the point of mental illness, and I think you're dangerously close to passing it." Gar continued, mistakenly believing Ahsoka's silence to be a sign that he was getting through to her.

"Look: I respected Graykill for the things he did to save all the rest of us, even though WE weren't originally the reason he set out to do what he did. He was a good kid, friendly, with good morals and good at heart; I don't know WHAT it is that he ever saw in _you_ , if all you seem to want is fight and kill––" The words caught in Gar's throat.

Ahsoka's only response was to ignite a crimson lightsaber, which startled the human – the crimson light and the guttural rasp of the blade's hum filled the tiny space of the lift, and the human plastered himself against a wall, only now realizing how far he'd overstepped his bounds.

The blood red glow of the saber's light resonated with two other ruby lights – Gar paled. There could be no mistaking the naked fury and murderous intent in the scarlet embers smoldering in Ahsoka's eyes, and belatedly, he realized only then how foolish it was to trap himself in a tiny metal box with a natural disaster given Togruta form, that was still in the process of mourning a fallen loved one.


	22. Chapter 22

Gar cried out as the saber bit deep, closing his eyes at the crimson flash of light; however, a moment later when he did not feel the expected pain of being bifurcated or topple to the ground in pieces, he very shakily opened his eyes.

The saber slid deeper, into the floor of the lift, where the Togruta allowed it to heat the surrounding metal in only a moment, before dragging it in a neat circle, carving a hole in the floor where a person could easily slip through comfortably.

As she completed the cut, the newly made panel fell away very slowly at first in the limited gravity still within the ship, then with increasing speed, until the orange halo of superheated metal disappeared from sight; it didn't take long – Ahsoka could hardly see as it was through the watery haze of hot tears flooding her eyes.

 _I don't know WHAT he ever saw in you._

The words dug hooks deep into Ahsoka's mind, and for a moment not even the training she'd used to hone her mind could brush the thoughts away – it was the truth, and it hurt.

 _I don't know WHAT it is that he ever saw in you, if all you seem to want is fight and kill._

Ahsoka's mind drifted back to the last 'meeting' she had with the dead human – it had been in her dreams… Or had it? The young man's message had been largely the same, and in spite of how much it hurt to admit it, Ahsoka knew that Gar's observation hit right on the mark.

Still, the truth stung the Togruta's pride almost as sharply as anything she'd ever remembered feeling, even during her time in the Jedi order – a part of her begged for a single quick slash, one quick and easy cut…

 _No,_ Ahsoka thought, after a moment; it took every ounce of self control the Togruta had, but, her thumb drifted to her saber's ignition – the very one that Dorrekk used to stab Graykill – and pressed it.

Immediately the interior of the lift was bathed in complete darkness, except for the faint glow of the still-cooling metal surrounding the hole Ahsoka had just carved in the floor. From behind her, a very shaky and fearfully quiet exhale – either of relief, or still-terrified anticipation.

… _I can't kill him. Not without proving him exactly right,_ Ahsoka realized. _If I were to hurt him, I'm sure it would have hurt Graykill more – so much more._

A silence gradually began to fill the Togruta's mind – faintly at first. However, Ahsoka realized then that the incessant, insidious tug at the fringes of her fraying mind by the corruptive aura imbued within the two crystals within her sabers no longer seemed as hypnotic as it was before.

 _What he said was lies – who can know what the young human man would have wanted?_

 _I do, and Gar is right,_ Ahsoka thought. _Graykill wouldn't have wanted me to submit to the dark side, not now, not ever,_ the Togruta thought – immediately, the sabers returned with a counter-argument, but this time, Ahsoka was prepared for the first time in what seemed like a long time with a simple and unyielding thought: _Shut. Up._

The crystals protested, but Ahsoka took a steadying breath laced with the acrid smell of molten metal, and closed her eyes for a moment.

Graykill's love and loss evidently could be a shield of sorts: there would be pain, and with it would come a form of strength too, but different from the one of blind rage and hatred – a scab, Ahsoka realized, as the fresh wounds of sorrow slowly began to heal as they only could with time.

The insidious tug within the crystals began to fade to little more than a static as the soothing silence began to build just a little more – their corruptive aura was there, constant and annoying, but no longer as temping or hard to ignore.

The Togruta raised a hand, and clenched her curled fingers into a fist; Gar squealed in terror, thrashing in Ahsoka's mental grasp as he felt himself lifted – none too gently at first – up and through the air, then through the hole, so that none of his flesh touched the still red-hot glow of the lift floor.

Gar tried to resist the unseen force that pressed in all around him, thinking that perhaps the Togruta meant to toss him down the shaft to splatter at the bottom – however, it wasn't until a good few moments passed thrashing about wildly that he realized he continued to fall at a constant and controlled manner, instead of picking up speed.

Gar passed several dimly illuminated sets of lights in a large, square pattern at set intervals – the emergency lights marking each floor where the elevator would normally stop, he realized. After he'd drifted for roughly 30 seconds and passed between 4-5 floors by his guess, did Gar feel himself slow.

He drifted closer to a wall, and immediately he scrambled to find hand holds to grab onto in the darkness – the unseen force continued to pull at Gar despite his grip, and for a moment, helpless fear washed over him; without any way of signaling the Togruta so high above, he had no way to tell her to let him go or she'd tear him free of the wall and really drop him. Gar's muscles stirred to life – soon, his fingers strained begging for mercy as he resolved to try his hardest to resist; then, abruptly, the pull simply stopped.

Nothing happened for long moments in the lift shaft, in which the silence was drowned out by the pounding of Gar's own pulse in his ears; somehow, the mysterious Togruta had likely sensed his resistance and taken it as a sign to release him. A moment later, Ahsoka's voice in short grunts reached his ears as she too moved from level to level, climbing, jumping, or drifting down the shaft.

 _That can't be safe,_ Gar thought absently; however, if the precariousness of their situation seemed to affect the seemingly intrepid Togruta, she neither voiced complaint or said anything on the subject; for his part, Gar's throat worked as he remembered the tense moments in the lift.

 _I don't know what he ever saw in you –_ it was not at all the most tactful thing to have said to her Gar realized upon reflection, and his neck began to prickle and flush with the heat of guilt and embarrassment. It's a miracle she didn't cut him down as he originally thought she would.

"What floor are we on?" Gar asked – again, he nearly lost his hand holds from the simple start that noisily activating one of her crimson lightsabers gave him; the Togruta held it over head like a torch, and frowned.

Gar glanced up: ESCAPE POD DECK.

Without a word – or a glance at Gar – the Togruta wordlessly deactivated the blade, evidently deciding this was not the floor she wished to exit into – they needed to go a few more down yet still.

Again, Gar felt himself grow weightless, as somewhere beside him, the Togruta seized him with her mysterious telekinetic powers, and the slow plunge began again.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

The storm of booted feet rattled noisily up the hall as a hodgepodge mishmash of expendable personnel from the bridge, several storm troopers, a number of auxiliaries that could be spared from the hangar deck, and even few support staff scrambled down the hall, then plastered themselves behind bulkheads or what little cover could be had, at what they hoped was a respectful distance for a Jedi.

"We're in position outside the stuck lift – there's no sound or movement inside, sir, and the doors are shut and undamaged – they should still be trapped inside. What are your orders?" The leader of the very hastily assembled apprehension team reported, trying to keep the jitters and fear in his voice as he spoke into a comm-link that would reach the bridge.

"The Inquisitor wants them alive if possible," The X.O. responded, hesitating for a moment. "However, they are Jedi, and they aren't to be trifled with – I do not like the idea of the Inquisitor's new pets running loose on _my_ ship, particularly now that we have lost contact with the explosive ordinance disposal team. Give them one chance to surrender – if they resist, turn them to _ash_!"

The leader resumed his white-knuckled grip on his blaster pistol – one borrowed from an officer that couldn't be spared from the flight deck – and squashed his cap against his head. The others glanced at him nervously; many, being primarily non-combat personnel, had never fired blasters since training.

Nervous stares were exchanged – without bothering to address the captives, the leader of the band immediately motioned to the one storm trooper carrying the only heavy weapon among them, a blaster-mounted grenade launcher loaded with a single thermal detonator.

Not a word of dissent was voiced as the trooper edged to the front, knelt, aimed, and fired.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

The explosion above reverberated deafeningly down the shaft, and even Ahsoka was almost startled free of her post – something, perhaps a disturbance in the Force – prickled in the Togruta's mind, and an instant later she reached out, and caught Gar by the wrist.

"Don't let me fall!" The human begged, latching on with his free hand to the deceptively iron-strong hand that grasped his wrist painfully – without a word, Ahsoka swung him up again to his previous gripping point on the wall.

 _I suppose I'm no longer on speaking terms with her,_ Gar realized dejectedly – however, as bitter as she seemed to be over his remark, he still gave thanks that she'd not seen fit to let him die, though she could have left him in the lift.

 _Speaking of the lift…_ Gar thought, glancing upward into the blackness – after some time in silence, in which he and Ahsoka used as an opportunity to descend another level, another not-quite-as-loud noise echoed deafeningly down the shaft.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"What do you _mean_ there was no one inside the lift!?" X.O. Elzetta demanded hoarsely of his communicator from his place still on the bridge of the ship.

"Sir, we gave them the order to surrender and we heard nothing back, so we blew the doors in – there are no corpses or even body parts inside the lift; just what looks like an escape hatch they somehow cut in the floor. I say again: the escapees. Aren't. Here!" The leader of the apprehension team responded, emphatically.

A cold wave of fear washed over the executive officer, and it sent his already churning insides to clenching powerfully, along with his pounding heart – not necessarily because he feared the Inquisitor's wrath so much as the loose and still-unaccounted for Jedi's wrath.

"You there!" Elzetta turned to one of the remaining bridge staff still sitting tense and ready at his station. "Release the magnet clamps on that lift – if they're still inside that shaft, we'll drop the damned thing right on top of them!"

 **==================================================[##*#########]** **o**

"What was that?" He asked eventually, after a long silence – however, the only response he received was the Togruta's lightsaber bursting into existence with a harsh guttural rasp, and beginning to carve a hole through the door that would normally allow lift occupants onto this floor.

If Ahsoka noticed, she did not interrupt her smooth and coordinated cut through the lift door, and had Gar's hands been free, he might have begun biting his nails.

 _I've only got one shot at this; I have to cut right the first time because there won't be time for a second,_ the Togruta thought – metal squealed high above.

"Flaming Hutt pus! I think they're going to drop the lift on us!" Gar cried out in terror, finally realizing what Ahsoka must have suspected from the start.

The saber continued to burn – even Ahsoka swallowed. The going was slow, terribly slow – had she taken the time to cut too large a hole?

 _CRASH!_

Ahsoka lashed out with the Force, blowing the freshly cut panel inward into the deserted hallway beyond with a tremendous crash, and immediately she lunged for the exit.

The Togruta did not have time to register the trepidation a lesser being might have felt at literally jumping through a ring of fire – the molten hoop of metal created by the cut in the door; she sailed right through with the calm agility of a Jedi.

Gar did not.

" _Ahhhhrghhh!_ " The screaming began at once, assailing Ahsoka's montrals as Gar gave voice to bitter agony – she'd seized onto the human with the Force, trying desperately to pull him through after her before the descending lift killed him.

" _Aiighh!"_ Gar continued to scream, curling up in a ball – Ahsoka immediately scrambled to him.

To her relief, she found that Gar's lower torso was intact thankfully; however, one leg, the left leg – from the shin down – was not.

 _I wasn't fast enough,_ Ahsoka realized darkly – caught between the hole in the door and the falling lift, the leg had chopped right off; mangled, scorched flesh hung in tatters from where the rest of his calf had been caught against the white-hot metal of the door. The Togruta swallowed; Gar would not run, walk, or even limp with an injury of that kind now.

Blood from the ragged wound began to seep onto the floor, and its stench – so familiar to the Togruta – began to cloy her nostrils, and she had to consciously master herself against the conjuring of terrible flashbacks of the numerous times she'd experienced dying clone troopers scattered all about her.

"Hold still!" Ahsoka commanded, but Gar remained inconsolable for several moments, until the Togruta was forced to slap him roundly once to jar him from his waffling; only then could she rip a section of uniform away to try and staunch the flow of blood.

"My leg," Gar cried, "It's gone!" He shrilled – Ahsoka gritted her teeth as her hands came away soaked in blood, and no longer the satisfying orange they usually were.

"It's not gone – only part of it is. And it's not a fatal wound either – or it wouldn't be, ordinarily." Ahsoka said, trying to speak over the frantic human's shouts and moaning.

"Are you crazy?! I'm going to bleed to death!" Gar practically shrieked, as if Ahsoka were blind to the drama playing out before her – however, the Togruta's answer was simple.

 _VSWASHH!_

A quick flick of the wrist sent a small section more of Gar's leg dropping to the deck – Ahsoka hardly even fully activated the saber as she amputated the ruined portion of the human's leg, eliciting another loud shriek from him.

She fell onto her rump as the human violently shoved her away, then rolled and writhed for a moment in pain; Ahsoka merely wiped her chin with her wrist which was still mostly clean, as she stared down at the small section of leg she'd had to cut off – now, the leg was gone nearly to the knee… But the field expedient surgery had done exactly as Ahsoka had guessed.

"Get away from me you psychotic monster!" Gar roared, fumbling for the blaster in its holster – however, Ahsoka seized both his hands roughly, before he could bring it to bear on her.

"Stop fighting! Look, I'm sorry I had to do that, but the bleeding's been stopped. Lightsabers burn hot enough to instantly cauterize arterial bleeding wounds, including ones like yours; it may have hurt, and you still may die if they find us here with you yelling like that, but it won't be from the leg wound!" Ahsoka snapped – Gar weakly raised the blackened stump that remained of his left leg, sobbing almost uncontrollably.

" _You couldn't have told me first!?_ " Gar demanded shrilly in between rattling gasps.

"Would you have held still and let me cut it if I did?" Ahsoka countered – this received no response but more strangled sobs, which was just as well for the Togruta; they had wasted enough time as it was.

"Come on, on your feet – _foot_." Ahsoka corrected belatedly.

"I'll kill you!" Gar threatened – however, Ahsoka impatiently moved to his side.

"Get in line – you have a Galactic Empire's worth of people trying to do that same thing, some of them as we speak. Now come on, we've got to keep moving!" Ahsoka prodded – to her surprise, Gar resisted again, pushing her away.

"I can't go anywhere like this; you go, I'll only slow you down!" Gar groaned – Ahsoka hesitated for a moment. Though the words were brave, the human maintained a white-knuckle grip on her for a moment, and there was both fear and pleading in his eyes as he spoke.

 _I don't know WHAT he ever saw in you, if all you seem to want is to fight and kill._

Ahsoka clenched her teeth – ironically, it was because of that statement that the Togruta realized she couldn't leave Gar behind; she owed it to the human to do her best to deliver him from danger as he'd unintentionally helped Graykill deliver her from the darkness.

On that thought, Ahsoka hoisted Gar to his feet. "Come on, we've got to get out of here," She repeated, adamantly as Gar continued to groan and yell as she forced him onto his one good leg.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Aboard the shuttle, the Inquisitor's hands continued to clench and release on his saber hilts.

"Have they recovered the escaped Jedi knights yet?" He demanded – the hum of the engines continued to fill the cabin as they burned sky on their frantic ascent from the planet to space.

"No word on a successful capture yet." The pilot responded in the negative – the Inquisitor's eyes narrowed dangerously as he glared through the view port of his passenger shuttle – the sky was still the hazy green of the atmosphere, with only the first few and brightest stars beginning to twinkle in it.

"How much longer until we reach orbit?" He demanded, after another while yet in silence.

"Twenty six minutes at full burn, plus another six to get to the ship. We're doing the best we can to get you up there as quickly as we can sir, but this cargo shuttle was never built for speed." The pilot responded as evenly as he could without missing a beat, evidently expecting the question.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Gar's input on their present course had only become a series of low moans, raspy breaths, and ragged breathing as Ahsoka half-shouldered, half-dragged him along her chosen path; the wounded human's skin had paled a little more than it already was, and his face was awash in cold sweat, but by Ahsoka's judgment he was still in relatively stable condition – at least for the time-being.

The pair had been forced to exit a floor higher than the Togruta had intended, and now she increased their speed even more as they located a stairway down; however, as they descended the final set of stairs, Ahsoka was forced to a stop by a wholly unfamiliar sight.

"Ngh… W-what happened? What's the hold-up?" Gar finally asked, when Ahsoka took the step of setting him down in the deserted stairway.

"This… Either this is the wrong floor," Ahsoka said, strongly doubting that possibility even as she voiced it, "…Or the Empire has _completely_ rearranged the layout and function of the hangar and flight deck from the way it used to be back on the older ships I served on." The Togruta replied, quietly, as she edged outward slightly to look around.

Gone were the enormously wide-open, ray-shielded hangar bays that spanned nearly the entire length of the warship, as they were with the _Venator-_ class warships Ahsoka had remembered; gone, also, were likely the miniature armadas of the ARC-170 or similar-class star fighters that made _Venator_ -class craft so dangerous in battle.

 _I've only been away a relatively short while, and already everything as I know it's changed, or is changing,_ Ahsoka thought to herself.

In the place of the old style of hangar was something altogether new – Ahsoka beheld a series of large doors that lead out into a row of what she guessed were much smaller individual hangar bays, which altogether added up to less than 1/5 of the original hangar deck of a _Venator_.

 _That would mean the Empire's scrapped the idea of fighters in exchange for the heavier turbo-laser cannon firepower of Capital-class ships,_ Ahsoka's tactician's mind immediately concluded – she shook her head in disapproval; such a doctrine would probably leave larger and slower capital ships woefully exposed to attack in weak points by smaller and more maneuverable fighters.

 _Well, at least it makes the job easier for us,_ Ahsoka decided after a moment, throwing all distracting thoughts of star fighter battle doctrine from her mind in a rush to get back to the 'here' and 'now': she scanned each sealed door again.

 _Each of these hangar bays looks like it's self-sealing. While that's certainly a step-up from the old designs in preventing explosive decompression of the entire bay all at once in an emergency… That would have to mean that – with the evacuation in effect – they will have to station troops inside each and every hangar, since the walls will limit their visibility, _Ahsoka thought, brightening slightly.

With the evacuation in effect, Ahsoka realized there would be much fewer available crewmen still aboard to patrol and secure each hangar bay, which was good… But still, of the many available, which _one_ bay should she attempt to infiltrate?

There was not enough time to physically visit and search each and every hangar, while leaving Gar helpless and undefended against discovery from a wandering patrolman – Ahsoka bit her lip.

Gar only looked up at her morosely as she returned a moment later, her initial sweep complete. "You're going to have to keep watch. I'm going to have to do some alternative recon and it'll leave me vulnerable." Ahsoka explained.

To this, Gar said nothing, but moaned loudly as his leg pained him; he shifted and held up his blaster weakly as the Togruta quickly and silently assumed a kneeling posture, and began to concentrate.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

X.O. Elzetta began to sweat even more than before.

"Sir, the lift has been de-magnetized. If they were inside that shaft, it should have made mush out of the two of them by now." The crewman that had been ordered to drop the lift responded.

 _If_ , Elzetta repeated grimly, in his thoughts.

"Tell the apprehension team to deploy what rappelling devices they've got and descend the shaft – I want solid, verifiable proof that the Jedi are dead. Until then, order what's left of the crew to remain on highest alert, and treat them as being still alive and at large!" He ordered, a moment later.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Ahsoka's mind reached out once more, as her physical senses melted away, along with the worldly contrivances like walls and doors; her heightened perceptions soon stripped away the metal of the ship, allowing her an unclouded view of her goal before her.

Indeed, each hangar was patrolled by between 5-12 soldiers – however, nearly all of their minds bristled with anxiety and agitation; some were more fearful than others, though Ahsoka lacked the time or the mental fortitude to determine why – exhaustion had begun to wear away at the last reserves of her mental strength.

 _We'll try for the hanger with only five in it,_ Ahsoka decided, choosing the bay that was closest and least heavily guarded among the ones before her; however, almost immediately, the course seemed wrong.

Ahsoka tried to fight past the irritation of indecision, and tried to focus her mind again; however, nothing presented itself to her unspoken question of why her first choice seemed wrong.

Instead, the Togruta scanned once over again the other hangars – one of them seemed almost inviting to her mind, despite being guarded by 12, the most troopers of any given bay.

Ahsoka tried again unsuccessfully to choose a less heavily guarded bay – again, her mind drifted back to the heavily guarded bay from earlier.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

An audible click accompanied the activation of a torch light, and the unlucky storm trooper that had been forward-thinking enough to mount it to his blaster, now cursed his own enthusiasm as he leaned over the ledge, shining the beam into the blackness of the shaft before him.

"I… I don't see anything." He said out loud, after a moment – the beam of light pierced through the darkness for a while, but was eventually swallowed up by the yawning void below.

"Move over." Another Imperial suggested, only now encouraged enough to approach now that no calamity had befallen the trooper with the light. However, even without a helmet on to obscure his vision, he could see nothing down below – certainly not the bottom of the shaft, or even the lift within.

"Looks like we're going to have to go down then." The lead Imperial said, injecting stoicism into his tone; a wave of nervous vocalizations eschewed from the assembled group, but he ignored them for the good of the mission.

"The few of you that have your liquid-cable ascension gear, get them out and mount them to your blasters," The leader ordered; after a moment of begrudging action, the leader spoke again.

" _Move_ _it_ , or the not even the X.O. will be able to save you from the Inquisitor's wrath if he finds out we let them escape!" The leader ordered – in spite of their original lack of enthusiasm, the troopers under the lead Imperial's command soon moved at a hurried pace as the threat of being left to the untender mercies of another, far less pleasant force-user presented themselves.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"You sure you're onto the right path here?" Gar asked, his voice taught and cracked with pain as they crept into position outside the chosen door of the hangar bay they would assault.

"No." Ahsoka admitted, still unaware of why the Force had seen fit to push her so insistently on this particular bay out of all the others.

"What's the plan?" Gar asked breathlessly as she set him down on the ground.

"I don't know." Ahsoka admitted. "It was hard to concentrate – I didn't get much of the interior layout; I only know that there should be roughly 12 troopers inside and that they won't be happy to see us. We're going to have to fight hard, and fast to wipe them all out with enough time to stow away inside a ship, because once the blasting stars, every person on this ship will know exactly where we are and what we're planning to do, including the troopers guarding the other bays." Ahsoka replied.

If Gar had any objections, they were strangled by another groan from the injured human, as he shifted and brought his blaster pistol up; the Togruta noted grimly that his hands shook as he held it – too shakily to keep it straight enough to shoot very far.

"The end of the line…" Gar finally muttered aloud. Perhaps exhausted, or perhaps already drained given all that he'd been through up until now, he no longer seemed so worried about the coming battle; Ahsoka tried not to think of what the odds were that human biology would result in the freed slave's death if he continued without medical care for much longer.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"Alright. I'll go down first, the rest of you follow me." The leader of the band of Imperials said, grasping the cable that had been fired and refusing to look down the blackened expanse opening up before him until he was inside of it.

The trooper that had fired the grappling cable readily handed over the rappelling gear, and stood watch as the uniformed leader grasped it, and began to descend.

One by one, the troopers counted off the seconds to the expected strangled cry… And heard none. Gradually, the first of them began to descend after the leader; the last of them had finally begun the descent, when a sharp shout of alarm came from below.

"Hey!" The leader's voice echoed up suddenly, sending ripples of surprise and tension through the line of other troopers still above him.

"They cut a hole through a door onto another deck! They aren't here!" The Imperial shouted; at once, relief flooded through the team – the Jedi could not have been anywhere else inside the shaft, though it still presented the worrisome fact that they were still at large.

One by one the group hurriedly swung through the hole that the Jedi had cut – more than a few of them looked on in complete disbelief; the door was nearly a finger-length thick and made of composite alloys and materials, and it had been carved cleanly through in a way that only the thermal detonator had managed to come close to doing.

"This metal's still warm. They came through here only a short time ago." One of the troopers reported, running his white-armored finger over the cut metal and reading the temperature on his helmet's heads-up display.

"And look at this." Someone else said, gesturing with a blaster rifle at a chunk of disembodied flesh on the floor, laying in a splattered pool of blood; the leader studied it for a moment, somewhat nauseated, then keyed his comms relay.

"Apprehension team to Bridge: At least one, possibly both Jedi successfully escaped the elevator shaft by cutting through the lift door and escaping onto the sub-station deck." The leader reported dutifully, hesitating only for a moment to glance down more closely at the shredded piece of humanity.

"Also be advised," He said, gingerly picking up a familiar scrap of green cloth between his gloved fingers that had been wrapped around the limb, "We found a piece of a human body part, a shred of one of _our_ uniforms wrapped around it, and some blood in the hallway." The leader said, trying not to let the stink of burnt flesh and blood repulse him too strongly.

"Either one of them – most likely the human – was injured in the attempt, one of them has stolen an Imperial Officer's Uniform, or they have captured one of us. They may even be receiving assistance from the captive… Or defector." The leader responded, glancing around and noting the distinct lack of a corpse – his pulse quickened fearfully. Was there more, or was this all they would find? What had the Jedi done with the victim?

Seconds passed in silence – the troopers all gathered around the severed limb. It was easy to guess which side of the crushed and mangled body part had likely been crushed somehow; the thing that held their morbid and fearful fascination was the clean blackened cut opposite the mess.

"I've heard legends about the cutting blades those Jedi carry around, but I can hardly believe what I'm seeing." One armored trooper muttered aloud, remarking on the clean cut that held all of their attentions.

"You really think the sword did that?" Another asked half-fearfully, half in disbelief.

"You really think it _didn't_?" The first trooper responded, glancing back toward the door, which had been cut cleanly through – it didn't seem possible, and yet the evidence was right there in front of them.

"This armor won't do a thing to stop something that can do _that_." Another trooper lamented nervously. "There's no way in hell we're equipped to tangle with an enemy this dangerous. What in the _hell_ is that damned Inquisitor thinking? We're all in way over our heads!" He whined.

"Cut the chatter!" The leader snapped; a moment later, a voice came through the communicator, one that was immediately recognizable at once.

"We've analyzed the ship schematics; the hangars are just below you. That can only be the one place they're headed – get there immediately!" The response came, this time from Elzetta himself; the group of nervous troopers hardly hesitated in spite of their previous anxiety – being delivered the grim news by the executive officer himself galvanized them all into action immediately.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

 _Please, let them not be paying any attention to this entrance,_ Ahsoka thought to herself, as she crept into the bay from a side-access door, hoping to use it to sneak up on the troopers in the bay.

 _The element of surprise is the only thing working in our favor. Without it, there's absolutely no way the two of us will ever be able to stand up to 12 storm troopers at once––_

"Hey!" One of the troopers within the chosen hangar bay shouted, perking up.

Ahsoka cursed savagely under her breath, realizing belatedly that her prominent blue markings and orange skin – the pride of any self-respecting Togruta – must have stood out prominently in a black and white hangar bay. She'd been spotted.

"Hey! There she is! That's the escaping Jedi!" The trooper shouted to his comrades, pointing directly at Ahsoka; although startled by the sudden declaration from the alert trooper, the others quickly rounded on her, and the blaster bolts began flying, exploding against the hangar wall only a short distance around the Togruta, while the spotter fled for cover.

 _This is it_ , Ahsoka thought in the instant of silence it took for the the stormtroopers' fingers to tighten around the triggers; the Togruta grasped the hilts of her twin sabers.

With a hoarse grating rasp, the twin red sabers flared to life in the blink of an eye – Ahsoka's heightened Jedi battle concentration and senses made the hangar bay seem to transition into slow motion; the Togruta dimly noted that the angry red of the incoming blaster bolts seemed pale and washed out compared to the terrible furious scarlet of her lightsabers.

The first shot bounced off of one of the two blades before it even finished extending; the second shot was directed right back at its origin, and a white-armored storm trooper dropped like a sack of potatoes as the bolt collided squarely with his forehead.

The Togruta dodged to the right, narrowly avoiding a hail of blaster bolts not even she could dodge; Ahsoka pushed herself, furiously trying to coax performance out of her tiring body as she'd done so many times before.

The trooper that had spotted Ahsoka first held the Togruta's concentration for only a moment – his fire was haphazard and inaccurate and he ducked behind cover as a stray shot from Gar's pistol nearly took his helmeted head off; she instead shifted it to his comrades, who posed much more of a threat.

… _Except these aren't droids,_ The Togruta thought grimly – the humans behind the blasters fired more quickly, and with better accuracy than the droids.

A few stray bolts from Gar's blaster pistol arced past the heads of the defenders; the shots went too far wide to do much besides spook the troopers, but the instant of time it took them to duck gave Ahsoka the time she needed to mount her next attack.

The Togruta extended a hand and poured a considerable amount of annoyed anger as well as helplessness into a telekinetic wave that built for a split second, before billowing outward explosively, and knocking nearly a half a dozen troopers to the ground at once.

Those that escaped the blast hesitated for a split second, hardly able to believe what had happened, and in the commotion mistakenly believing that the unseen enemy that had struck their brothers down might have been another combatant – even Gar stopped shooting for a moment.

However, for the Imperials, the momentary distraction proved fatal – like a whirling tornado of scarlet death, a twirling beam of light came flying in with speed that almost defied the eye, as Ahsoka Force-tossed her lightsaber at the combatants still standing.

It had been Ahsoka's goal only to disarm the troopers – most of the storm troopers' blasters came apart hands as the flying lightsaber cut them in half. Unfortunately, Ahsoka's flagging concentration threw the saber wide, and as a result several troopers collapsed to the deck screaming, now armless, and two more fell to the deck already as silent as death, in pieces.

Though the Togruta continued her deadly dance uninterrupted, she did spare a morose thought as the thrown saber snapped securely back into her hand: _Sorry_ _in advance to your families._ The crystals within her sabers buzzed their protest once slightly, but it was little more than a tingle the Togruta ignored in the heat of battle.

Danger prickled Ahsoka's senses – the few troopers that had actually recovered from being knocked to the ground were scrambling to recover their weapons, and while those that had remained unconscious had their weapons taken by those troopers that had been disarmed.

Ahsoka's main saber rang a three-note as it intercepted three bolts; one trooper tumbled to the ground yelling clasping the inside of his thigh – the remaining two scrambled for cover near the trooper that had spotted Ahsoka, where the chance of being struck by their own returned bolts might be slimmer.

Danger prickled at her instincts, and the Togruta's attention shifted to a felled trooper getting unsteadily to his feet. Unlike the others, he wore a bright orange shoulder pauldron – almost certainly the mark of a squad leader or someone else of relative importance.

The trooper hardly wasted a moment shaking his head, before orienting on her – Ahsoka tensed, mentally clicking her teeth in disapproval as the trooper raised his weapon.

 _Ah ah ah! I can deflect blaster bolts, remember?_ She chided the trooper mentally… And then gasped in alarm as she noted the subtle difference in his weapon that marked it as not being a blaster rifle at all.

The Togruta's tired muscles exploded into action as she dove into a leaping evasion, desperately trying to escape the hail of death that her lightsaber would be completely useless to deflect against, as the storm trooper with the flechette shotgun opened fire.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

 **Author's Note:** Sincerest apologies for the gap in update times; this month has bee hectic. However, we should be looking at a return to normal Wed./Sat. update schedule from here on out.

Merry Christmas to all!

-G.


	23. Chapter 23

_**BLAM!**_

The flechette shotgun barked and launched a firestorm of dozens of razor sharp metal shards at the spot where Ahsoka had been standing just moments before.

The trooper hesitated a moment, disbelieving that the murderous scatter-weapon could actually miss, and disbelieving that it was possible for any biological sentient – even a Togruta – to jump as fast or as quickly as she had; however, fighting instincts kicked in, and the trooper turned, tracking the escapee Jedi.

"Yeah, _this_ 'll teach ya! Take that!" The trooper yelled impishly, letting loose another shot an instant after Ahsoka scrambled for safety behind a maintenance station and toolbox, and then another that tore into the meager cover.

In an instant, the fight went from winnable to a complete route – Ahsoka stood huddled behind what remained of the partially shredded toolboxes – cerulean blood flecked the deck from the few small injuries where she had not been fast enough to avoid being grazes on the arms or legs by stray shrapnel.

Ahsoka hesitated. The flechette shotgun was a field-expedient anti-Jedi weapon if ever there was one, and she was trapped; moreover, the troopers that survived the initial onslaught were now regrouping, and Gar's pistol had fallen silent as the others rained coordinated fire on the hapless freedman.

After a few moments, the hangar fell marginally silent except for the screams of the wounded. "Come out with your hands up before I riddle you!" The trooper challenged; behind the tool box, Ahsoka's insides churned.

"I'm giving you _one more chance,_ tentacle-head!" The human warned, advancing several steps; Ahsoka cursed her luck, hardly able to believe she'd made it so close to the end, and now her own carelessness had undone it all.

Her twin red sabers extinguished with a resentful hiss at being dismissed so early in the fight – however, the Togruta's throat worked as she raised her hands up slowly.

"Drop the weapons!" The trooper ordered, pointing the flechette shotgun at the Togruta, who reluctantly set them on the ground.

 _I'm going down fighting,_ Ahsoka mentally promised the storm trooper, who began to advance, _Just you get close enough so I can at least take you with me!_ She thought, beginning to succumb to the terrible emptiness clutching her inner being.

The alternative of being left as a play-thing of the Sith Agent was just too horrible a fate to contemplate; slowly emerging from behind the toolbox, Ahsoka noted five more troopers all aiming their blasters at the place where Gar was hiding, also yelling for him to give himself up. A moment later, the discarded blaster skidded across the floor, and Gar's opened hands appeared.

The trooper approached, and without warning struck Ahsoka mightily across the face with his flechette shotgun, dropping her to the deck – the Togruta accepted the blow, but her murderous scarlet eyes flared to life as she became determined to pay back the injustice with a Force crush that would liquefy his internal organs and turn him to liquid mush inside his armor.

 _BLAM!_

The trooper let out only a weak grunt as a blaster bolt collided squarely with the patch of spine between his shoulder blades and he collapsed; Ahsoka could hardly believe her eyes as the trooper crumpled, dead before he fully settled onto the ground.

The sound attracted the attention of several of the troopers, who turned, thinking perhaps Ahsoka had not obeyed, and had been shot to death by their comrade. Their dismay turned to shouts of alarm as the trooper that had originally spotted Ahsoka and had spent the battle lingering in the back, lightly dusting her with inaccurate fire, now turned his blaster on his own comrades, immediately dropping one.

Ahsoka hardly questioned her luck – seizing the fallen squad leader's flechette shotgun with her feet and kick-tossing it into her hands, the Togruta sat up, pointed the shotgun in their general direction, and fired; at once, those in the remaining group of surviving defenders that had not been shot in the back by their comrade collapsed, shrieking and yelling in pain as the flechettes punched through their armor, shredding them and riddling them.

Though it took a moment to recover from the blow the trooper with the shotgun had given her, Ahsoka unsteadily got to her feet, and advanced on the lone remaining storm trooper in the back.

"Don't shoot, damn you!" The trooper snarled, ducking behind cover – Ahsoka hesitated, noting something vaguely familiar about this trooper; the man peeled off his helmet hurriedly, and peeked his face out cautiously.

"Jephego!?" Ahsoka demanded in disbelief, not lowering the flechette shotgun.

"Yeah it's me, damn it! Stop pointing that thing over here at me, you jackass!" The rogue snapped angrily, prepared at any moment to dip behind cover in case Ahsoka decided to fire.

"Why should I?!" Ahsoka replied heatedly, tensing her finger on the trigger. "You gave me up to the others before the attack! You almost got Gar and I killed!" She accused furiously.

"I had no choice!" He retorted. "I can explain everything, but we have to get out of here! The other troopers will be here in less than a few minutes!" Jeph shouted.

A terrible quandary presented itself: Jeph's behavior was highly suspect. 

However, before she could consider the problem at length, Gar half-rolled, half-flopped into the bay and strained to shut the bay door behind him by punching a panel on the wall. "Incoming!" He yelled, his voice cracking before descending into a rampaging string of muttered curses and expletives as the pain from the exertion curled him around his injured stump.

"W-what happened?" Jeph demanded, very cautiously standing up once he saw Ahsoka lower the shotgun and turn to retrieve her dropped lightsabers.

"He's hurt! You, go get him away from that door!" Ahsoka commanded, not trusting the trooper enough to get near him; hesitantly, Jeph picked his way across the floor, past the writhing forms of his wounded former comrades, all of which shouted obscenities and jeered curses or accusations at him as he passed.

Ahsoka finally scanned the contents of the bay itself for the first time, now that escape seemed finally to be an option: there were more than a few single-person fighter craft in place, ready to be launched – they were vaguely familiar in some respects, and totally alien in others.

The single spherical command cabin at the center of two large, flat, hexagon-shaped wings lined with glossy black solar panels, shared the same honeycomb-like pilot's canopy of the newer Eta-2 ' _Actis_ '-class Interceptors that had just begun service near the end of Ahsoka's involvement in the Clone Wars. Without needing to be told, Ahsoka instantly concluded these odd craft were almost certainly star fighter attack craft.

However, the odd craft were decidedly small – Ahsoka realized there was probably not even room enough for two people inside the command pod, let alone three; moreover, if they were anything like the predecessors they were likely designed upon, the Togruta realized they were so small as to not have their own hyperdrives.

 _I'm the only one that might be able to pilot anything we'll find in this ship – taking a star fighter is definitely out,_ Ahsoka decided, glancing at Jeph, who gently helped Gar to his feet; the pair hobbled over a moment later, just as Ahsoka's eyes settled on a large, white, unfamiliar shuttle parked a short run from their current position.

The craft resembled the blocky ' _Nu'_ -class attack shuttles Ahsoka had been passingly familiar with during the war, but thinner, infinitely more graceful, with a glossy black canopy, three slim and prominent wings instead of two, and more importantly, with four laser weapons on the front mounted prominently on the front like talons on a Drexl.

The Togruta turned and glanced around – the Ray shielding that normally allowed one to glance out into the blackness of space and allow the unrestricted going and coming of star ships was not present, likely due to the powering down of all the ship's secondary systems; instead, a thick mechanical bay door blocked the way.

"If anything's going to be capable of blasting its way out through this hangar door _and_ getting us away quickly enough that they don't blow us to star dust, it'll be that thing." Ahsoka muttered aloud.

From behind them, a half-muffled explosion sent sparks, debris, and pieces of metal paneling across the floor of the bay as the rest of the ship's compliment converged upon their location.

"We're running out of time! If you're going to take that thing, then let's get him on it and get out of here!" Jeph asserted immediately.

Ahsoka shouldered Gar, and the three set off toward the waiting ramp of the craft – however, Ahsoka shot a murderous look at Jeph.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't leave you here." She said, angrilly.

"I saved you?" Jeph retorted, incredulously. "Look, if you're still angry about me spotting you, I'm sorry, but I had to do it." The rogue trooper responded. "The others were getting cagey about my showing up unannounced."

"You shot at me and Gar!" Ahsoka snapped.

"Yeah, but did I actually _hit_ either of you?" Jeph demanded, giving Ahsoka pause. "Of _course_ I shot back! I had to make it look good to the others, and damn it, it paid off! Had it not been for me back there, you'd have more holes in you than a screen door right now!" Jeph snapped.

Ahsoka fell silent, unable to refute the trooper's logic. "Fine – and I'm sorry too." Ahsoka replied somewhat sheepishly, as they ascended the ramp to the ship.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"They're holed up in Hangar Bay 4!" The Imperial leader of the apprehension team shouted into his comlink, as the door sealed shut down the hall.

"Copy that. You're to stop them at all costs, is that clear?!" Elzetta's very tense voice demanded.

"We understand, but they've sealed the door behind them – my troopers with helmets say they're in contact with the surviving wounded in the bay and they report the fighting is over – everyone is either dead or wounded in action. There is – repeat, there _is_ – a traitor in our midst that's helping them escape! They're attempting to commandeer a shuttle as we speak!" The leader replied.

Elzetta's vehement swear was audible over the comlink, though it likely wasn't his intention to transmit it. When he returned, his voice was tense.

"Standby – we have no choice. We've just been ordered by the Inquisitor to dispense with bomb safety protocols and restore primary power to the ship – it'll take us a few minutes to get the reactors online; until then, stall them for as long as you can!" Elzetta responded.

A few protests were voiced the moment the comms relay went silent.

"Are they nuts? They could kill us all!" Someone shouted irritably.

"Yeah, well, tell that to the Inquisitor. He doesn't care!"

"It's his fault the got loose, damn it! HE should be the one chasing them down, nut us!"

"Cut the chatter!" The leader shouted. "Get set up and ready to assault their position once that door opens – call as many reinforcements as can be spared from the other bays, and tell them to bring any heavy weapons they have if they can!" The Imperial leader ordered, quelling the belly-aching.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Ahsoka let her eyes and hands work over the command and instrumentation console spread out before her – she'd never flown a ship of this type before, but she was at least thankful that the Empire had not radically changed the avionics beyond what she'd been trained to fly as a Padawan and Clone Commander.

"Can you really fly this thing?" Gar asked hesitantly, as he watched her experiment for a few tense seconds, cursing under her breath whenever a command did not do what she thought it might.

"Maybe?" Ahsoka responded, evenly – a moment later, she finally discovered the lever that raised the loading ramp and sealed and pressurized the cabin.

"Let me take a look at that leg; you've started to spring a leak." Jeph remarked, glancing at Jeph's blackened stump, and noting that the strenuous activity of the last few minutes had caused him to begin bleeding.

"Do it as quickly as you can; I might need a tail-gunner before we're out of here." Ahsoka responded, noting with relief that the third chair on the deck was for a gunner.

"Tail gunner?!" Jeph demanded incredulously, as he scoured the ship's storage locker for a medical kit. "Do I look like a Flight Officer to you? I'm ordinary Military Police for crying out loud, not flight crew!" He said, finally locating what he needed, and returning to Gar.

"It's not hard – you of all people should know how to pull a trigger and that's most of what there is to know about it. Besides, you'll be better than nothing at all – especially because it looks like we may have to shoot our way out of here." Ahsoka said, activating the craft's shields and breathing a sigh of momentary relief; unless the ship's crew produced a heavy repeating laser turret, the shuttle's shields would be enough to repulse small arms blaster fire.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"There!" The pilot of the military freighter called out – the Inquisitor spotted the distant form of the Star Destroyer, now the size of a pea, slowly begin growing to fill the freighter's canopy.

"We aren't going to make it there quickly enough that I can personally stop them." The Inquisitor said, with bitter disgust – the report that the Jedi had made it through to the hangar bay filled the Sith agent with murderous rage.

"Contact the harbor. Order them to halt the recovery of the escape pods and focus instead on scrambling their fighters. If any ship should leave the _Corrupter_ before they can bring their tractor beams online, I want it destroyed _immediately_!"

Though the shuttle pilot wanted to protest; halting the rescue and recovery mission would be absolutely disastrous for crew morale – however, knowing the nature and the budding reputation of his volatile passenger, the most he could do was hesitate for a moment, before obediently keying his headset.

The Inquisitor continued to glare murderously at the _Corrupter_ ; there was more than likely no time or point in attempting to dock with the Star Destroyer – he knew it would be a fruitless gesture, particularly if the ship bearing the Jedi escapees fled before his arrival.

With nothing to do but sit and watch events unfold, the Inquisitor slowly built up an infuriated death-grip on his light saber hilt. 

**o[#########*##]==================================================**

The shuttle quivered as its own engines finally came online – ever a quick study, Ahsoka was gradually beginning to figure out the rearranged controls that the shuttle possessed.

"I feel a little better now that my leg's been tended to," Gar said, glancing around the illuminated interior of the ship with the first signs of hope since the whole disastrous mission started, "…Is there anything I can do to help?" He asked.

"Buckle up – this ship looks like it can be piloted by one person, but I can use your help anyway." Ahsoka replied; stiffly, Gar braced himself on the back of her chair and hopped the few steps to the copilot's seat and strapped himself in.

"How's it going over there?" Ahsoka asked Jeph, who had also strapped in.

"Ready and waiting." The rogue trooper responded experimentally aiming the ship's guns on-screen, and watching as the turrets outside tracked and traversed along with his commands.

 _Hatch sealed… Engines, primed… Weapon systems online… Hyperdrive charging – it'll need all the head start it can possibly get… Auto-Pilot Off…_ Ahsoka mentally repeated, finally making the last of the adjustments to the avionics.

"That hangar bay door isn't going anywhere on its own. Are you sure you want to blast through it? What about the guys still on the deck below?" Jeph asked, sparing a vaguely sympathetic thought for the wounded troopers down below.

"It's either them or us – and we've got too much riding on getting out of here alive." Gar responded coldly; Ahsoka clenched her teeth. It helped having Gar be the one to say it instead of her, for once.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

The hallway door to the hangar bay exploded inward, blown to pieces by another launched grenade. Seconds later, storm troopers began to course through the smoldering gap, immediately opening up with their blaster rifles and other small arms, and watching as the bolts skipped off the ship's shields.

"Set up the heavy repeating blaster! Quickly!" Shouted the squad leader, as he spotted the only craft in the hangar that had its lights on, and was primed for take off.

At once, the way parted as two troopers carrying an external power pack and tripod placed them in the doorway. "Make a hole! Make a hole!" Shouted the two troopers carrying the gun itself, to be heard over the din of the blaster fire all around.

The _Lambda_ shuttle's engines increased to a high-pitched whine as they spooled up, picking the craft up off the floor slowly with an ungainly lurch that steadied as the pilot corrected its course with a smoother hand.

"Where the hell do they…?" The Imperial leader asked, wondering where the shuttle intended to go inside of a sealed bay – then, the forward facing laser cannons all locked on the bay door, a moment later.

"Holy…!" The Imperial shouted, as the repeating blaster gunners locked the weapon onto its tripod, and attached the energy pipe to it.

"Blast that ship before it spaces us all––!"

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Unlike before when the hall door was blown in, the crash of the eight incredibly high wattage starship cannons slamming into the hangar door was easily and loudly audible inside the craft's cabin.

"Hit it again – we need a hole big enough to fly through to get out of here!" Ahsoka ordered, as Jeph paused, momentarily awestruck by firing such incredibly high power weapons for the first time.

A status alert chimed on the control panel – Gar leaned forward, studying it. "Exterior pressurization is beginning to drop!" He reported. However a moment later, a warning alarm shrilled. "Hey! We're under attack!" Gar said in disbelief.

Ahsoka glanced at the panel; somewhere unseen to their right, something heavier than a standard blaster was beginning to chew through their shielding. In less than a minute of sustained fire, it would burn the shield generators out altogether before they even left the ship.

After three powerful salvos from the shuttle's laser cannons, a sizable hole had begun to develop in the hangar door – and the flailing forms all the troopers left stranded on the bay floor were sucked right through it, to disappear out into the empty space beyond.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

The roar of wind tearing through the shuttle bay and the hall completely drowned out any ability to talk over the comm-link; nearly every trooper in the bay, particularly the ones without the armor that would sustain them for a short time in its unforgiving vacuum, abandoned all pretense of shooting at he escaping vessel in favor of grabbing onto walls, doors, bulkheads, each other – anything – to keep from being sucked out into the blackness of space.

The two Imperials manning the repeater continued on unabated, trying valiantly to make the sacrifices of any of their brethren sucked into space worth while – however a moment later, the failing door itself was sucked out into space as the rain of starship cannon fire finally overpowered it, and the lambda shuttle itself was blown right out of the bay into space, along with everything not welded down.

The widened gap increased the tug exponentially, and none of the hapless troopers had the strength to grasp on for very long – however, as the first of them lost their grip, the main emergency shutter slammed shut, sealing the bay and depositing them all on the metal deck, shaking and yelling in fear.

"…––Come in, repeat, Bridge to Apprehension team! Come in, over!" The comms relay in the trembling lead Imperial's pocket called. "…Apprehension team, come in! Readouts are saying the bay explosively decompressed! What the hell's going on down there? All we're getting is static; respond immediately, over!"

With a very shaky hand, the Imperial keyed the response button. "A-a-apprehension team to b-bridge… T-the r-reports were a-accurate. T-they c-commandeered a ship and got away, over…!" The Imperial whimpered, before collapsing to the deck as a ball of nerves with the rest of the crew.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"Ha ha! We made it! We're free!" Jeph cackled wildly, pumping a fist in the air jubilantly as the ship tumbled for several moments wildly after being jettisoned from the bay, before regaining control and resuming level flight.

"It's not over yet – switch to the tail gunner position. I'm already reading several incoming contacts, with more probably on the way from the space harbor!" Ahsoka said sternly.

The Togruta knew the real work had only just begun, and sparing only a moment to set the throttle at 'wartime emergency power', she immediately set to work plotting the jump to the coordinates she'd previously agreed to make with the band of freed slaves back when she'd first come up with the groundwork for this plan.

"Gar, what's our shield read readout look like?" Ahsoka asked, glancing at the battle map that showed four 'friendly' fighter craft inbound; _Except they're not friendly – at least, not to us,_ Ahsoka groaned, tiredly, as her hands tightened around the flight sticks.

"87% and recharging. 88% now." Gar responded. "What's that mean? Is that a lot?"

Ahsoka winced. "Not with so many enemy star fighters bearing down on us and about to be chewing on our rear Lekku." She responded unenthusiastically. "Four direct hits, maybe three, and we're space debris. The Hyperdrive?"

"Hyperdrive's got enough fuel to get us where we need to go, but it's only 36% complete plotting the jump and charging up." Gar reported, a moment later, then glanced at Ahsoka. "Are you sure we're going to make it?" He asked nervously.

"No." Ahsoka replied honestly, flipping the Hyperdrive's charging throttle also to Wartime Emergency Power as well.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing? The readout says you might fry the hyperdrive if you keep doing whatever it was you just did!" Gar responded nervously.

"It's a risk we––" Ahsoka jerked hard on the flight sticks, and even the ship's artificial gravity dampeners could not compensate for the sudden G-Force; Gar practically shouted himself hoarse, not expecting the sudden shift on his wounded leg, as outside, a pair of brilliant emerald laser beams whizzed by, narrowly missing the ship.

"It's a risk we have to take." Ahsoka repeated over Gar's ardent cursing at her. "Besides – the Imperials care if they tear up the drive by working it too much because they have to pay to fix and keep this stupid ship space-worthy for a long time; we don't. We only need one good run out of this tub, and then we're through with it forever." Ahsoka responded, again punctuating the sentence with another hard maneuver that Gar tried to brace for with only mixed success.

"Tail gunner, what's going _on_ back there?!" Ahsoka demanded pointedly of Jeph.

"I'm trying! I'm trying! This wouldn't be so hard if you didn't keep moving the ship around so much!" Jeph responded nervously.

"If we kept still, then they'd blow us away!" Ahsoka replied with biting sarcasm, then hauling the shuttle into another move that sent the space frame stress alarms ringing in protest again.

Twin laser beams shot past all around them silently in space as the fighters worked hard to keep up with Ahsoka's wild acrobatics and maneuvers; Gar stared at them in wonder – in any other situation, they would have looked curious, almost pretty in a sense as they streaked harmlessly by.

 _WHAM!_

Alarms chimed, Gar hollered in pain, Jeph snarled a curse, and Ahsoka growled as the first glancing blow jarred the ship sharply, dispelling the look of fascination on the wounded human and replacing it with terror as the cold reality set in that the laser fire was deadly.

"Shields!?" Ahsoka demanded.

"67%! That had to be a direct hit!" Gar yelped; Ahsoka didn't argue.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"Aurek squadron, has the target been eliminated?" Elzetta's tense voice crackled through the speakers of the T.I.E. fighter pilot's glossy black helmet.

"Negative sir. I don't know _where_ this pilot learned to fly but I've never seen anything like it. I don't think even the engineers on that shuttle's design team knew that anyone could get that ship to do the things he's asking it to do!" The pilot responded, in begrudging admiration as he tried unsuccessfully yet again to repeat one of her maneuvers.

"Fools!" A different, sharper, and altogether harsher voice cut interrupted. "That's because the pilot is a Jedi – the Force can heighten one's abilities far above that of you blundering insensitives! Redouble your efforts and use your numbers to your advantage!" The Inquisitor ordered sharply.

 _If you're so high and mighty then why aren't you out here helping us!?_ The Pilot wondered, but remained wisely silent, and accidentally overcompensated for a sharp turn; the targeting computer, which still rang 'Locked' fell silent as the T.I.E. fighter's lasers nevertheless arced harmlessly wide of their intended target.

"Jygin, Retzloff, you two try to hit him from starboard. Thorin, you're with me; we'll take port. Break formation!" The squadron leader ordered, as a haphazardly aimed set of twin tail laser cannon beams streaked perilously close to the four of them.

The Lambda shuttle entered into a dizzing corkscrew spin that no doubt shortened the life of the air frame considerably – though the T.I.E. could handle such acrobatics more easily, it was still a terrific strain on the pilots and their skills as they attempted to remain on the wayward shuttle's tail.

"Gah! Come _on_!" One of the other pilots snarled in helpless exasperation, as he skipped only a glancing blow off the side deflector shields; it was a sentiment the squad leader shared only too keenly.

"Aurek, standby – Besh and Cresh squadrons are taking the field; they'll be on station in less than four minutes." Harbor Control interjected.

"Copy that. What's _Corrupter_ 's status? Have the boilers stoked on that thing or not?" The T.I.E. leader demanded impatiently.

"All systems should be within operational range within 120 seconds. Keep them busy just a little longer and the tractor beams will take care of the rest." Came the response; the T.I.E. leader paused, glancing at his tactical map.

"Get the lead out; my tac map shows us already on the far edge of the tractor beam's envel––" At the tail end of a particularly complex maneuver, an errant shot fired from the Lambda's tail gun filled the T.I.E. Leader's windscreen with scarlet light; the fighter disintegrated an instant later.

"Zaq's down!" The three remaining T.I.E. pilots all blurted out at once, each surprised that the blind man shooting from the tail gunner's position had gotten a lucky shot off.

"Useless." The Inquisitor huffed in disgust. "The rest of you learn from his example! Now, dispense with trying to destroy the ship for now, and focus on hemming it in instead to prevent it from escaping. The Star Destroyer cannot catch what it cannot reach!" The Inquisitor ordered.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

The fighters broke off for only a moment, then pulled away with their superior speed – Ahsoka cursed.

"Hey, I think I did it! They're breaking off!" Jeph called from the gunner's station, as all targets on his screen cleared away.

"That Star Destroyer must be getting ready to move on us. I recognize what they're trying to do––" Ahsoka did not even have time to finish the sentence as the first of the fighters came streaking in head-on, directly on a collision course.

Gar tensed. "He's coming right for us! Turn! Turn!" He cried, as the distance between the two disappeared in a split second.

"We're going to crash!" He yelled in terror, as the deadly game of chicken played out to its end – at the last split second, the T.I.E. pilot lost his nerve, and veered away at the last instant, salving his wounded pride by firing off a series of several shots, one of which skipped off their ventral shielding.

"What the hell was that mad-man's problem!?" Gar demanded shrilly, removing his hands from where he'd covered his eyes with them.

"They're trying to get me to turn away – turn back in the direction of that ship so the rest of their forces can take a swing at us. My master used that plot once or twice back in the clone wars." Ahsoka said, confident in the assumption – and equally desperate to make the jump.

"If they do that again and we don't get hit, we'll have to be just about the luckiest guys in the universe!" Jeph declared over his shoulder.

 _Luck has nothing to do with it when you have the Force,_ Ahsoka thought inwardly, while also praying that the brashness she'd inherited from Anakin might not finally be about to get the best of her.


	24. Chapter 24

" _Damn_ that guy!" Thorin snarled, pulling away from his unsuccessful attempt at forcing Ahsoka to veer off back toward the Star Destroyer. "He's a rock! I didn't get him to budge an inch!"

"Jygin and I are coming around for a pass." Retzloff declared, maneuvering into position beside his wingman – the Lambda shuttle still continued to dip and twist to a degree, but the pilot ingeniously switched his own tactics to counter theirs.

No longer having to fear being shot down from behind, the pilot recognized safety lay in fleeing, and dispensed with acrobatics to burn instead for the safety of open space in quick bursts; the pair of fighter pilots maneuvered their T.I.E.'s around, hurriedly setting up for another run that would certainly be the end of the courageous escapee.

"Retz, I'm on you. If he doesn't duck this time, I'll stuff his face full of hot Tibanna!" Jygin declared.

"Roger – starting my attack run! We're ready for you _this_ time, tough guy!" Retzloff declared.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"They're coming around again on a collision course, which is practically almost the straight line you wanted! Are you ready for them this time?" Ahsoka demanded of Jeph.

"We'll know here in a minute…" Jeph said, nervous in spite of himself, as the tiny specs in the distance already began to grow in size with lightning speed; in the blink of an eye, they were close enough he could almost make out the individual buttons on the chest panels of the closest pilot.

"They're opening fire!" Ahsoka said as the T.I.E. fighters rocketed in, resisting the urge to pull away as a hail of green beams came in, steadying the ship as much as she dared.

 _WHAM!_

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Retzloff registered a direct hit on the nose deflector shields of the Lambda shuttle, and their fizzling away as they burnt out an instant later; if Jygin could make good on his promise to land a follow-up shot, the shuttle would be blown completely to pieces.

The front of the Lambda shuttle glowed green brightly, answering the twin T.I.E. pilots' challenge with an angry jab of its own, firing all 8 cannons at once, vaporizing Retzloff in an instant.

Jygin cried out in alarm as pieces of Retz's exploding fighter collided with his own; Thorin, busy sneaking up from behind in an attempt to clobber the shuttle's unprotected rear, cried out wordlessly in alarm and hauled starboard on his joystick to avoid Jygin's wildly out of control fighter.

"They got Retz! And Jygin's out of control!" Thorin shouted, jerking his head over his shoulder and only catching the barest glimpse of the other pilot's T.I.E. spinning like a top off into space.

"Jygin, are you there?" Thorin demanded, banking sharply to fall in behind the Lambda shuttle in spite of the concern for his fellow squadron-mate.

For a while, there was silence; then when he finally answered, Jygin clearly sounded flustered and his voice tight with nervousness.

"I'm here – barely! My canopy's smashed out, my flight suit had a hole in it, and pieces of Retz's ship are embedded in my ship's instrumentation panel. I'll live as long as the patch I put on my space suit holds, but I'm in bad shape; you'll have to finish this fight!" The pilot lamented bitterly, after finally regaining control of his careening fighter.

Fires bloomed in Thorin's eyes; here had been a squadron of four of the Empire's T.I.E. Fighter Pilots, skilled in their own right, and not to be trifled with – and they were being shown up by a Jedi in a diplomat's shuttle.

"Get back to base then, but I'm staying on his ass!" He declared vengefully.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

More laser fire zipped and streaked past the ship as the vengeful pilot peppered them with incoming fire from behind once more. "He's trying to force us back into a fighting posture." Ahsoka growled.

"Our forward deflector shields are gone! If they run on us one more time from the front, we're done for!" Gar reported after glancing at the readouts before him; sweat poured from his forehead, and the pain of his stump continued to ail him greatly.

"I highly doubt they're going to bother risking that again," The Togruta responded, glancing at the shuttle's tactical map and noting the position of the lone remaining T.I.E. fighter to confirm her guess, "…Because there's only one fighter left and he knows we adapted to that attack strategy." The Togruta declared, noting the other T.I.E. fighter evidently beginning to limp off for home.

"Perfect! Our rear shields are still there – all we gotta do is take care of the one and we're golden, right?" Jeph asked over his shoulder.

"The one, and the entire army he's bringing with him." Ahsoka responded neutrally – as the damaged T.I.E. disappeared from the ship's scanners, a horde of new contacts, two more squadrons' worth at least, replaced it. In spite of his previous excitement, the color drained from Jeph's face.

"The Capital ship's systems are already coming online too; the shuttle's registering a massive power spike from it. Now what?" Gar moaned, blinking in bewilderment at the overwhelming odds.

Ahsoka glanced down at the hyperspace plotter – the engines were primed, but the calculations were not yet complete.

"This is it." Ahsoka said, patting the instrumentation panel of the severely taxed shuttle nervously, hoping it still had the wherewithal to survive hyperspace after the beating it had taken.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"That's it – you're getting tired." Thorin growled viciously, as the shuttle faltered out of a loop.

The T.I.E. pilot fell in behind the ship once more, narrowly avoiding another haphazard shot from the shuttle's tail gunner – after what had befallen the squadron leader, Thorin knew better than to get complacent around the poor accuracy of the tail gunner, even for a moment.

"Aurek Flight, this is Besh leader – we'll be catching up to you shortly." The leader from the fresh new squadron of incoming T.I.E. fighters announced.

"This is Cresh Flight; we're almost on-station as well." The leader from the second squad leader added.

"Take them out immediately. Their shields should almost worn through!" Thorin growled, still attempting to lock onto the shuttle's tail, which continued to flee as quickly as it could.

A moment later, a hail of green laser fire began to pour onto the shuttle, which launched into a final dizzying display of acrobatics, as the Jedi pilot at the controls responded with every last desperate maneuver he had evidently been saving until now, and a moment later, Thorin soon realized why.

"This is the _Corrupter_! Stop that craft immediately, Aurek flight! We're almost in position, but our scanners are already picking up the beginnings of a hyperdrive energy spike!"

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Jeph gave up any pretense on taking any aimed shots as the craft began to roll, buck, spin, and twist through a roller coaster's worth of breakneck turns, and instead fired blindly in the general direction of the pursing enemy fighter – sweat began to bead down the exhausted rogue trooper's brow as exhaustion and nerves began to take their toll on even him.

"The rear camera's lighting up like the Courscant skyline at night!" Jeph said with a clear edge in his voice, as the panel lit green with the incoming fire from the pursuing T.I.E. fighters.

 _I haven't pushed myself this hard since the Clone Wars,_ Ahsoka realized inwardly, as the ship rocked from the first near misses and winged shots the new arrivals could land on it, or perhaps the lone remaining original T.I.E. fighter; it was impossible to tell now.

 _My skills are beginning to atrophy; if we make it out of this…_ Ahsoka did not have time to finish the thought, as the shuttle bridled again from another incoming shot.

"They've dialed you in! We're done for!" Gar observed gloomily, tensing and unable to do anything more than wait for the expected blow that would send them all to oblivion.

The shuttle twisted, and turned – the T.I.E. fighters, all eager to be the one to lay claim to the kill, did their best to predict the coming move that would put them in position to be the one to victoriously vaporize the shuttle hot cannon fire; each T.I.E. pilot twisted, dived, banked, or rolled away, as they anticipated the direction the Jedi pilot's final attempted maneuver would take him.

However, no one except Thorin predicted that the ship would level out instead, flying straight and steady for just a heartbeat – the T.I.E. pilot's fingers squeezed the triggers an instant later, and the pilot watched as the leading edge of his fighter's beams collided with the Lambda shuttle's rear shields, blowing them away.

The last thing Thorin saw of the shuttle was the rest of the jets of hot plasma reaching for the now-unprotected rear of the shuttle as it picked up speed and then disappeared in the blink of an eye, gone at faster than the speed of light.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Smoke filled the cabin, as the rear deflector shield generator burnt out, and the ship jarred from one last tremendous laser cannon impact.

"We're hit! They scored a blow on the actual hull!" Jeph shouted, scrambling blindly from the gunner's station to locate the fire extinguishers and put out a fire that started in the rear of the troop compartment; Ahsoka hardly saw the stars lengthen into blurry white ribbons as the ship finally blistered through space at FTL speed.

Ahsoka knew immediately that the battered and heavily damaged shuttle stood a very real chance of coming apart; if it did, the end would come so quickly that not even Ahsoka with her Jedi reflexes and perceptions would ever see it coming.

However, as the smoke began to thin and the ship remained intact, Ahsoka realized they had made it. They had actually made it.

The smell of burning electrical equipment was perhaps the most beautiful smell Jeph and Gar could remember smelling in a long while – for her part, Ahsoka slumped back in the pilot's chair, completely exhausted by the sheer effort of pushing herself as hard as she could remember having had to do so in a long while.

"We haven't rattled ourselves to pieces across hyperspace, and the fires are out! We did it!" Jeph yelled triumphantly and finally without reservation as Ahsoka deflated with a deep sigh, drooping from the relief.

Even Gar perked up enough to clap her shoulders briskly enthusiastically – for her part, Ahsoka only wanted to go to bed, as exhaustion tugged at her eyelids.

"Ha ha! We did it! We make a hell of a team!" Jeph said, and in spite of all of the shortfalls they'd experienced, they had prevailed.

Gar and Jeph practically hugged each other in their elation, but Ahsoka remained silent; in spite of surviving, she found she had relatively little to be truly enthusiastic about.

"Oh man, I can hardly wait to tell the others about this!" Gar said excitedly, though his voice was still stretched taught from the pain in his stump.

"Now that we actually have some time and we're not under fire, let me get the rest of the medical equipment out; cross your fingers – maybe there's an emergency limb-cap Bacta tank in here somewhere." Jeph volunteered, disappearing to the back of the ship to root through its stores. Gar ran his hands over his face and hair, in disbelief at their brush with death, and turned to regard Ahsoka.

The Togruta remained quiet, and listless, staring blankly past the control panel stretched out before her.

"Hey..." Gar remarked, frowning slightly. "Hey, are you okay?" He asked, with growing concern; Ahsoka glanced up at him, and sat up straighter, as if regaining her senses.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She replied immediately.

Gar hesitated – for one who'd been so instrumental to their survival, the Togruta did not seem very exuberant at all, and the freed human slave winced as possible – probable, Gar corrected himself – reason why finally caught up to him.

Gar cleared his throat awkwardly. "You did us all a huge favor, and no matter what I said back on the ship… I'm still deeply sorry for your loss." The human replied; Ahsoka's face only twitched slightly for a moment, but even so Gar caught a glimpse of the grief and sadness behind it, as her facade of being expressionless failed for a single instant.

"That's not it. I'll be fine." Ahsoka lied, though her voice betrayed her, began to get thick and husky with the weight of unshed tears.

Gar hesitated for a long moment, wanting to do or say something else to comfort the Togruta, and found that nothing he could probably say would ever adequate – numbed, he remained silent.

"Hey! I found some pain medicine, and an emergency tube of Kolto salve. It's old, and it's not Bacta, but you definitely won't die on us at least." Jeph announced jubilantly as he rejoined them a moment later, oblivious to the Togruta's silent struggle.

Quietly, Gar realized some things were better left private, and said nothing of it to Jeph. "Okay look, I hate to tell you this but it's going to get worse before it gets better for just a bit. I'm sorry in advance if any of this hurts you." The rogue trooper announced briskly, and Gar muttered a curse under his breath, bracing for the pain.

By the time Jeph finished tending Gar's wound nearly 10 minutes of shouting and resisting later, the freed slave cracked a watery eye wide enough to spare a single sidelong glance toward the Togruta, hoping that perhaps the few minutes' distraction he posed to Jephego had allowed her to regain her composure. Stooped over the control panel and with her back turned to him, Gar couldn't tell.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

The Galaxy burst into being as the Lambda shuttle sped out of hyperspace, and resumed the comparatively slow, trundling speed of sub-light flight.

The cheery atmosphere between Gar and Jeph eventually died away on the hyperspace flight as a new threat presented itself. "We might be in trouble." Ahsoka announced sullenly.

Evidently the final parting blast to the fleeing shuttle's engines it had received the instant before it jumped had done more damage to the sub-light systems than Ahsoka originally realized – the shuttle would not likely hold together for much longer.

"That's not good – the scanners are picking up no contacts anywhere within range either." Gar observed after several moments, adding to the general feeling of extreme unease in the shuttle – Ahsoka and Gar both scanned the tac map and the pilot's view port hopefully, but spotted nothing.

"The engine's beginning to over-heat." Gar observed after several minutes of sub-light flight; Ahsoka nodded, already aware of the problem – wordlessly, she spooled down the engines to less than half-throttle, trying to coax as much life out of them yet as she could.

"Where are we? What's out here?" Jeph asked, glancing around; the system they had jumped into was unfamiliar to him.

"Our rendezvous point." Gar explained, when the Togruta made no move to fill the silence with a response. "We were supposed to meet a group of others we were with here, in this system… But I don't exactly see any of them." He finished, more quietly.

Jeph frowned. "Others? Who, and what for?" He asked.

"You… Maaaay… Have just helped us scam the empire out of a _huge_ sum of money." Gar admitted hesitantly, glancing to Ahsoka and noting that the Togruta expressed no objections or concern in letting Jeph in on the secret – the trooper frowned darkly.

"There were about 10 of us, and we just escaped a Weequay Pirate base, but we were without money, a ship, or supplies. So, she got the idea to fake turning herself in to collect on the bounty the Empire is offering on the heads of all Jedi – the rest of us posed as the bounty hunters that supposedly made the capture, bt made the decision at the last minute for me to tag along and double our reward for two captives." Gar responded, glancing out the view port again fruitlessly.

"So where are they then?" Jeph demanded, voicing obvious concern. "Don't tell me they took the money and ran." He asked, beginning to glance around as well, anxiously hoping to spot the ship that the other two were looking for.

"We… Don't know yet." Gar responded, glancing at the chronometer in the ship's instrumentation panel. "I certainly hope they didn't, and it's too early to lose faith just yet. They knew to wait for us for an in-system week, and it looks like we got here with time to spare – I just don't know where they could be right now." The freed slave said nervously, not wanting to acknowledge the very real possibility that the freed slaves had escaped with the money while they still could.

"Sub-light thrusts are getting downright cantankerous. We're down to 23% output." Ahsoka announced, adding more bad news to the pile. "I'm going to try a hailing signal – even if another passing civilian ship picks us up and responds, getting picked up by complete strangers will be better than nothing. The Empire will no doubt be tracking this shuttle, and they'll probably be here once they recover." The Togruta continued, lowering the throttle yet again to idle, just to keep the engines from overheating.

Gar and Jeph both watched on nervously as time passed in silence – finally, a shrill alarm from the warning system began screeching, and Ahsoka abruptly reached down and pulled a black-and-yellow striped handle under the central control console. The two humans felt an unexpectedly sharp jarring as the enclosed cockpit sealed itself, then broke off and jettisoned away from the troop compartment.

"The main hull's officially shot. We're having to travel in an escape pod now." Ahsoka explained, glancing back as the body of the stricken shuttle drifted away; only a few moments later, the engines superheated, and the craft exploded silently, momentarily bathing them in a bright flash of light and scattering the craft's remains across the infinite void.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"That's it. Our escape pod thruster fuel reserves are down to 10%. I'm shutting them down now." Ahsoka announced nearly an hour later, breaking the uneasy silence that had filled the Lambda's escape shuttle cabin; the reassuring ambient hum of the craft's booster engines died almost immediately, and soon, they were locked in a dead silence within the stuffy, still, coffin-like confines of the escape pod.

"If I knew you guys' exit strategy had all been hinging on getting rescued by a bunch of freed slaves you trusted to watch a mountain of loot, I'd have told you two to land on a star while I still had the chance back there." Jeph growled darkly at Ahsoka as he glanced around at the open blackness all around them.

Ahsoka said nothing – the trooper's ironic comment hardly registered with her; knowing that he never would have been able to voice his opinion in the matter at all in the first place, having been the victim of Force Persuasion, the Togruta knew the comment to be less than empty.

"One thing I'm curious about," Ahsoka finally spoke up a while later, glancing back at the trooper who floated just a few inches in a seated position above his chair in the zero gravity, arms crossed, "Is how you somehow knew to go to that hangar we each other in after we lost contact with each other." She asked – Jeph scratched his nose with a gloved finger for a moment once before responding.

"I made it to the escape pod deck and found the place deserted," Jeph began. "And I thought maybe I was going to get left behind, which wasn't a very encouraging prospect… Then, I overheard the X.O. teasing you two over the ship's intercom when he tried to cut off your escape route. When I heard him say you two were trying to make for the hangar bays, I realized you were going to try and steal an escape vessel from one of them and knew that to had be my new objective." Jeph responded.

"The rest of the crew guarding the place almost blasted me at first, showing up unannounced and out of place like I did. But, then we heard that supposedly you guys might have kidnapped an Officer and he was the one helping you instead," Jeph muttered the second part sarcastically at Gar, who remained belted into his seat, but now had taken his torn Imperial Officer's jacket off, "They lost interest in me – just an ordinary grunt – particularly when we heard you were coming and had me fall in."

"It figures that it was my luck that you two _didn't_ decide to raid another bay, 'cause now we all probably get to either die of dehydration or suffocate to death – whichever comes first. Maybe getting left behind wasn't such a bad idea." Jeph said with disgust; the ghost of an ironic smile finally tugged at one side of Ahsoka's cheek as she remembered being aboard the ship, attempting to choose a bay and each time being compelled to choose the one that she now realized had been where Jeph was.

"They would have figured out your involvement in the escape sooner or later, and you would have been in as bad or even worse of a predicament." Ahsoka pointed out. "You don't seriously think you would have escaped detection forever, do you?" Ahsoka asked grimly – Jeph paused, remembering his ordeal in the concussion missile bay.

"No, maybe not. But being executed for treason beats waiting to die in a metal coffin out in the middle of no––" Jeph began to retort until an alert on the control console chimed in, interrupting him; the three beleaguered escapes tensed only slightly, staring at the signal in disbelief for a moment.

"Is it the Star Destroyer?" Gar wondered aloud, nervously, checking the chronometer – by his guess, it soon would be getting close to the amount of time the cruiser might need to recover its evacuated crew, deal with the explosive warheads armed in its bays, and set out on a course for extreme vengeance.

"It's a response signal to our hailing beacon – and it's coming from _inside_ the system, from behind one of the moons of that planet." Ahsoka said, encouraged, pointing to a planetoid looming almost motionlessly in the distance, cross-checking the readouts to confirm the information.

Garbled static greeted them when they keyed the communications array; unable to do anything more than watch as Ahsoka worked, Gar fidgeted for several moments in the silence. "Oh, please don't let it be more pirates… I don't know if I could stand going back into slavery after all that." He whimpered fearfully – Ahsoka's expression changed to a stony grimace; the Togruta immediately decided she would rather die before being submitted to that again, with a blow from her own blades if need be.

The garbled static hissed and choked for several moments as the shuttle's computer attempted unsuccessfully to make some sense of the incoming signal; in spite of her initial relief, Ahsoka began to feel a twinge of nervous anticipation as they waited.

"(––, over!)" The transmitted finally finished its interpretation of the transmission signal, and changed its protocols to successfully match it in time to catch one singular word in an alien dialect; however, Ahsoka was the first to breathe easy as she recognized it immediately.

"That speaker was talking in Sullustan. It's them! They're here!" The Togruta declared with certainty; Jeph and Gar both drifted to their feet with a whoop of excitement.

"(Friend Ashla, is that you? Are you there? It is Gian; please respond if you are able to, over!)" The Sullustan's anxious tone poured through the pod's communications array, sending a renewed burst of enthusiasm through Jeph, upon seeing Gar's thrilled reaction.

"Gian, it's Ashla." Ahsoka responded, using her false name again without conscious thought. "We're adrift in an Imperial transport shuttle escape pod and we need immediate retrieval. Do you have our coordinates?" The Togruta asked.

"(Yes! This ship's scanners have picked you up, and we are on the way. Many apologies for the delay in responding – we were hiding in low orbit behind a moon to avoid being detected by any unexpected visitors; being in its shadow made it difficult to respond to your transmission.)" The Sullustan replied.

Ahsoka strapped herself into her seat again, hoping that at long last the grim ordeal of the last couple of weeks might finally be over. "All in favor of using the last of our fuel to link up faster?" The Togruta responded, desiring to be out of the confines of the shuttle as quickly as possible.

"Aye." Gar and Jeph responded immediately together.

"Motion carried – unanimously." The Togruta muttered under her breath, stoking the tiny pod's engines and sending them rocketing off toward Gian and the other slaves.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

The three drifted through zero gravity of the escape pod and stepped into the artificial gravity of the captured Pirate vessel with much relief and gratitude.

"Thanks for getting us out of that tough spot, old girl." Jeph remarked, sparing a few fond words and a pat on the bulkhead of the Lambda's docking hatch the moment before he exited it; the action was repeated by Gar, and even Ahsoka, who glanced back at it once forlornly as she drifted through the ship's hatch onto the reassuring artificial gravity of the Pirate vessel.

Perhaps it as merely a side-effect of Graykill's fresh absence or the crippling physical and mental exhaustion she felt, but the Togruta glanced at the soon-to-be-abandoned pod and lamented it as just one more thing she'd been forced to use up and abandon in this awful life of wandering the stars, alone and hunted.

"It's good to see you made it – but who is he?" Seepurr asked cautiously, pausing his helping of Gar limping aboard to jerk his head at the armored but unarmed storm trooper; taken aback by the unexpectedly cool welcome, Jeph fell silent, shuffling off to stand somewhat hesitantly behind Ahsoka as she boarded.

"A new friend and an ally, without whom our plan and our escape wouldn't have succeeded." Ahsoka merely responded absently, striding right past the assembled freed slaves, who were bewildered by the Togruta's near total disregard for the triumphant moment of their happy reunion.

"Where are you going?" Twi'la asked, perplexed and more than a little bewildered, "…And what happened to your leg?!" She continued with grave concern, seeing Gar's stump.

"We're expecting an entire Empire battle cruiser's worth of extremely hot pursuit to follow us here, and they could be here any minute. I'll talk later when we're not in danger of being captured by a Star Destroyer." Ahsoka replied, not looking back – this drew more than a few frightened looks from the freed slaves.

"Ungh… She's right." Gar responded, wincing with pain. "We barely made it out by the skin of our teeth. I'll tell you all about it while she gets us out of here. In the meantime, help me find a place to sit down."

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

The Star Destroyer burst into existence only a few hundred thousand miles away from the drifting shuttle pod, which continued to broadcast its emergency distress beacon, and began closing the distance quickly.

Almost immediately, a swarm of T.I.E. fighters departed the bays of the _Corrupter_ , which now boasted its full compliment of troops once more, and was already in the process of fixing the relatively minor amount of damage caused by the incident with the Jedi escapees.

The Inquisitor stood before a private observation window in his quarters – though the proud Sith agent maintained the fault of the prisoners' escape had been due to the blundering ineptitude of the ship's compliment, there was no escaping the fact that he was partially responsible for the flub by underestimating them as well, and it wouldn't do to stand on the bridge at the helm of the ship so soon after such a humiliating escape.

By the time the fighters finally formed a swarm around the drifting hulk, the Inquisitor had already long since reached out with his perceptions to the tiny drifting hulk, and found nothing at all inside – the prisoners had finally escaped, _again_ , and likely for the last time.

Though the Inquisitor harbored terrible thoughts of the exquisite tortures and punishments he would visit upon the two Jedi should he ever discover their identities or hunt them down again, he knew that he had been defeated, and it irritated him terribly.

"Aurek Leader to _Corrupter_ : We don't make out any activity within the vessel; the hatch is open and the interior vented to space. They're gone sir." The squadron leader, the sole remaining individual newly promoted by necessity to fill the gap left by the deaths of his squad mates, reported. In spite of this, he sounded almost as robbed over the intercom as the rest of the crew felt.

The Inquisitor again had no choice but to dismiss the ship in disgust – it would be a great stain on the his honor for a time to come, and he would not soon forget or forgive the Togruta and Human Jedi that had mocked him and his forces with their daring and their abilities; storming away, he did not even wait for the ship's tractor beams to latch onto and drag the abandoned pod into a bay for a boarding party to inspect.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"That's it. They made the jump." Ahsoka responded, registering the explosive burst of energy on the Pirate vessel's sensor array as the empty-handed Star Destroyer eventually abandoned the system – the captured Pirate ship itself drifted in the cover of an asteroid belt, safe from detection, with all of its systems shut down for good measure.

"Ha! Then we made it! _We made it!_ " Twi'la declared enthusiastically; it was a cheer that was taken up by all the other slaves and even Jeph, all of whom had silently and tensely been watching for the appearance of the craft.

Ahsoka said nothing – truth be told, the jovial atmosphere grated terrifically on her nerves, and she was relieved when the band eagerly marched off together to celebrate in the hold.

The emptiness outside the windows before Ahsoka pressed in upon her more keenly than ever. Now that the danger was passed and she'd turned her back on the anger and hatred that had been propelling her… Ahsoka found that she was left without direction or purpose anymore.

"Hey, we––!" Twi'la clamped her lip shut, seeing Ahsoka's sagging shoulders begin to bob silently – the distracted Togruta gave no indication at all that she'd even heard the Twi'lek; even so, Twi'la keenly felt the sting of embarrassment for intruding upon the Togruta's grief.

Quickly and quietly withdrawing from the cabin, the Twi'lek only spared a single backward glance, in time to catch the Togruta slump over the ship's control console, face buried in her forearms.

Reminded again of the loss of the young human to which they all owed their freedom now, Twi'la shut the cabin hatch behind her, pausing to make a brief Twi'lek religious symbol of veneration – somewhat hesitantly did she approach the celebration taking place in the Pirate hold.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"So, what happens now?" Jeph asked the unspoken question a day later, that had been looming at the back of everyone's mind long after the group had fallen into a glowing silence; the loading ramp of the ship rested in the dirt of another small but far busier space port than the ones they'd visited previously, where Imperial presence was still nonexistent.

"It's been fun," Ahsoka remarked with no humor in her tone whatsoever, "…But now, we all need to do what you probably all hoped to do from the very start: split up, as soon as possible." The Togruta said.

"The Empire will be looking for the bounty hunters that match the description of you, and your – this – ship; it should go without saying that they'll be looking for Gar and I particularly hard." Ahsoka said.

"Staying together any longer than is absolutely necessary might raw potentially lethal attention to all of us, but once you're all alone or with your families, they probably won't be able to tell you apart from any other sentients other in the galaxy so long as you keep a very low profile from now on," The Togruta explained.

"Each of you will receive an equal share of our takings from the Empire – including you, Jeph." She added as an afterthought, surprising the rogue trooper.

"After that, you will all need to go your own separate ways; what you do then is up to you all. There'll be way more than enough money here for each of you to book transport home or wherever you need to go, and to help you start or rebuild your lives." More excited cheers greeted the news, this time including Jeph.

"What will you do?" One of the slaves piped up, asking the one question Ahsoka had dreaded being asked all along.

"Go my own way." The Togruta responded automatically, with no enthusiasm of any kind in her voice; the response was met with a somewhat crestfallen silence from the others, as behind her on hold floor lay the yellow decay-stasis bag that held the body of the young human that had saved them all. More than a few sympathetic eyes averted their gazes for a moment – irritated by being the focus of the attention, Ahsoka politely cleared her throat and moved to change the subject before anyone could pose any well-meaning but unwanted follow-up questions.

"Those of you that can't book passage to your homes on this planet can ride with me while I make one more stop to a different star port. After that, the ship's transponder ID will be changed and the vessel sold for scrap, to throw anybody following it or us off the trail." Ahsoka finished.

Then, with that, the Togruta turned away leaving the business of divvying up the loot to the freed slaves; as she stalked quietly off, Ahsoka did not spare a backward glance – all he money in the galaxy was less than meaningless to someone who had been robbed of any purpose to use it.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

Gar eventually cleared his throat from behind Ahsoka, when it became apparent that the Togruta probably wouldn't acknowledge his presence, and true to form, the Togruta did not stop or even slow the work she was doing rewiring a panel on the ship to eliminate a responsiveness issue in the controls.

Truth be told, the chore was nothing more than busy work, considering the craft was destined for the scrap heap; however, it had severed its purposes well: engaged in trying to sort out the spaghetti wiring, Ahsoka could occupy her mind with anything but the sorrows that plagued her… And, the slaves had politely left her alone to concentrate, until most of them had finally taken their earnings and fled for parts unknown.

"Listen, I… Apologize again for what I said on the ship the other day. About Graykill." Gar said, somberly; Ahsoka dropped her hydro-spanner and cursed under her breath, and the response set the freed slave to shifting on his feet awkwardly – though he stood easily now on a fine prosthetic limb grafted onto his surgically healed stump; it had all paid for with only a tiny percentage of his reward.

 _Must you keep dragging it out by reminding me?!_ Ahsoka wondered bitterly, pointedly picking the spanner up and returning to her work even more intently than before.

"I… Also wanted to thank you for not leaving me when you could have." Gar added.

"It's fine – don't mention it." Ahsoka finally responded, though again she did not look up..

Gar cleared his throat, unsure of what to make of the stilted reply. "…And more thing before I leave you alone… I'll be taking off in the morning." Gar said, with a sigh – even now in the company of the silent Togruta, he still could hardly believe his good luck.

"But before I go… Well, I know you refused most of your share of the bounty money, but I just wanted you to know that I'm leaving you some anyway. I… I hope you can use it to give Graykill a good funeral."

The rattle of the spanner stopped abruptly.

"All of us pitched in – Seepurr more than anybody. It's the least we could do… If you'll accept it, that is." Gar said. The human responded; something about the way in which Ahsoka tossed the wrench gently in defeat and curled up tugged at human – unconsciously, Gar finally approached, guessing that the wall she'd labored to keep up had finally crumbled away.

"…T-thank you. That means more to me than you could ever know." Ahsoka finally replied, no longer able to see her work piece anymore behind the moisture in her eyes and leaning into Gar, who draped an arm around her reassuringly.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

"I… Wanted to thank you again for dealing me in on that reward money." Jeph began quietly the next evening in the now increasingly empty ship's hold – Ahsoka had been staring off into space while pretending to eat, as the human approached.

"It was the least I could do after the danger you put yourself in for our sakes." The Togruta replied neutrally; the fact that she'd forcefully compelled him hardly registered with Ahsoka as she made an effort to bite into the unwrapped ration bar that had been sitting in her hand ignored for almost an hour now; even as she chewed, she tasted none of it, and she certainly hungered for none of it.

Almost undoubtedly, the Togruta realized the rogue trooper had likely been told tactfully the reason for Ahsoka's withdrawn behavior by one of the slaves; even so, Jeph let a wan smile tighten his features for just a moment.

"Actually… I also wanted to thank you for something else – the experience." Jeph said; although Ahsoka remained preoccupied with her own thoughts, the statement succeeded in drawing a questioning look from her.

"I know this is going to sound crazy now – particularly compared to how scary things were at the time – but when I first joined the Empire, I had hoped that I might at least get a taste of that kind of high-stakes, balls-to-the-wall, devil-may-care type lifestyle as a storm trooper that I got in helping us get out of there." Jeph remarked.

It took Ahsoka a conscious amount of effort not to scoff hard enough she might hurt herself in the process; she'd had enough of that hellish existence already in her few short years to last her a hundred lifetimes – even so, after thinking for a moment, the Togruta redirected her near-instant dismissal of the human's sanity toward a more constructive purpose.

"You actually like near-death experiences?" She asked, only half sarcastically.

"Nobody in their right mind probably _likes_ them, but they're a thrill to be sure – and it beats the living hell out of staring at your own crew mates through a ray shield all day because they pissed off their C.O. for dumb things like drinking on duty or coming back late from shore leave." Jeph replied.

"Hm… Well, while I can't promise it will always be like that," Ahsoka remarked, as an idea occurred to her, "…I know of a man that has need of people like you, that can operate calmly under stress, can think on their feet, and are just a little bit crazy." Ahsoka said, surreptitiously pausing to gauge Jeph's receptiveness and noting that the ex-trooper's eyes immediately lit up with anticipation.

"Being a wanted man by the Empire will only a plus in his book too, and you'll get more than your fair share of chances to cheat the reaper." Ahsoka responded, letting her mind wander toward thoughts of Bail Organa and his fledgling Rebel Alliance.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

 **Fun Fact** **:** In case I haven't mentioned it yet, the title of this story was actually originally going to be 'For the love of a dead man'.

…But then I realized how much of an obvious a spoiler that would be and went with something that made me feel less moronic, and that's where we got the (slightly) more ambiguous "The Lone Wanderer" from.

Stay tuned for the final chapter, and in the mean time, have a very Merry Christmas (or Happy Holidays)!

Cheers!

-G.


	25. Chapter 25 (The End)

Ahsoka unzipped the yellow body bag that Graykill had been kept, and marveled at the efficacy of the stasis unit installed on all such bags of its like, which kept a body in a form of hyper-sleep in which decay and rot were momentarily warded off for a time.

Had it not bee for the fact that the young human's once warm face was now so terribly cold, and still, Ahsoka might have mistook him for being asleep; she did not yet unzip it far enough to reveal the ugly black hole her saber had pierced through his heart – the heart that she'd hoped to treasure for life.

The Ithorian had been the last to leave – he had lingered the longest, evidently having befriended Graykill as a slave when the human had first arrived; Ahsoka had considered inviting him to stay.

However, she'd woken to Loorpa instead quietly performing an ancient Ithorian funerary rite one morning, to honor the fallen young man. He'd then politely excused himself, parting company that same afternoon.

In hindsight though, Ahsoka was now grateful that the Ithorian's decision had allowed her be alone, where prying eyes could not intrude upon her grief and sorrow or see her in the sorry condition she was in; the tears flowed freely as she hugged the human's head to her breast.

It had taken days of reflection for Ahsoka to determine the appropriate course of action; almost immediately, Ahsoka had decided that she would turn her back on the Jedi method of complete antipathetic detachment during cremation as was common during the cremation of a fellow Jedi – Graykill deserved better, and Ahsoka still harbored feelings of resentment toward that aspect of the Jedi's fanatically ascetic lifestyle; he'd awakened Ahsoka to the concept of love; she would not dare consign him to the ages with a ceremony that removed her from acknowledging its sweetness again.

Next, Ahsoka had considered the cold and impersonal formality of a military burial in space as she'd so often attended in the days as a Padawan during the Clone Wars; however, the Togruta knew she was not a soldier in any sense of the word anymore, nor had Graykill ever been one to begin with, and at any rate she did not relish the idea of his body drifting endlessly through the blackness of empty space.

Briefly, Ahsoka had even considered conducting a Togruta ceremonial burial until she remembered that her people held no such ceremonies – the sick and elderly were abandoned to nature's untender mercy, almost always to be killed and eaten by the many hostile predators that roamed their naturally hostile home world of Shili.

 _Such an ignoble end doesn't suit you either,_ Ahsoka thought, revolved by the idea of carrion scavengers picking at his bloated corpse, as the Togruta stroked the dead young man's cheek once, and glanced over at the deep hole in the ground she'd painstakingly dug herself just a few inches away.

Seeing it brought her thoughts back to the last option: Evidently, interment in the ground was a popular human rite for venerating their dead, and struck Ahsoka as by far the most preferable of the ones available to her.

Here was a method that allowed Graykill to rest peacefully for eternity in a place where Ahsoka knew she could eventually visit him again someday if the desire ever struck her. And, on this nameless but virgin planet she'd found after wandering alone aimlessly for a while in wild space, he would certainly rest undisturbed while surrounded by the natural beauty of the wild and untamed landscape.

The Togruta looked out across the untouched sprawl; by nature of being located on a mountainside, it stretched from horizon to horizon all around the grave site, as far as the eye could see.

In spite of all this, distressing sense of unfulfilled attachment clutched Ahsoka sharply and for several long and merciless moments, and she almost actually reconsidered the decision; at the head of the grave was a fine and exquisitely carved headstone made of a beautiful naturally occurring mineral, which was perhaps if anything more than enough to satisfy the requirements of this part of the ritual.

However, Ahsoka realized she had nothing to put on it – just one more bitter reminder of their all-too-short time together. Belatedly, the Togruta realized she'd never been given the opportunity to get to know the young man at all, and that fact stung her more keenly now than ever before.

Where had Graykill's home system been, and what had been his home planet? Did he have any family that yet lived there, and who were they? How would Ahsoka ever find or even contact them to tell of Graykill's fate or his final resting place?

Even the tidbits of information such as his birth date and the date on which he'd died, so frequently inscribed upon headstones in human cemeteries, escaped Ahsoka; the cold reality that Graykill had likely died not even knowing her real name, or anything about the Togruta he'd so selflessly risked his life for, stung Ahsoka ever more sharply.

A terrible self-loathing filled Ahsoka as she once again considered the folly of her own actions, and her inability to protect the young man despite all of her glorious talents. Thus, with trembling hands, Ahsoka fully unsealed the bag, at least comforted a tiny amount by the fact that she had at least also successfully met the second requirement of the burial: gingerly, she placed him inside of a fine casket purchased with the donations of his former comrades.

Ahsoka pressed her lips against Graykill's once more, and for the final time – she averted her gaze, unable to look upon what had been lost any longer, and sealed the casket, satisfied she had given him as good a parting gift as she could have. _I'll always remember you,_ Ahsoka thought, brushing a hand mournfully against the lid of the casket, then kneeling beside it and letting her mind retreat inward.

It took only a few moments of concentration, but as Ahsoka stilled, the casket moved – slowly it began to rise a short distance above the ground to hover above the hole; then, silently, it slowly descended into the depths until it settled in the dirt at the bottom. Ahsoka opened her puffy eyes – all according to rite and ritual.

She buried her face in her hands again.

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

When at last shovel full of dirt had been cast, and Ahsoka had delivered as eloquent a final prayer of goodbye as she could think of in her present state of mind, she sat back in the shadow of the stone monument and simply stared into oblivion for a while.

In spite of the heaviness in her aching heart, a vague sense of calm passed over the bereaved Togruta; never before had Ahsoka ever been allowed to mourn the passing of anyone in this way – not the most heroic yet modest and personable of clones, not good friends lost or fallen, and certainly not fellow Jedi too often lost in the heat of battle, and relatively rarely of old age; it was therefore in a sense a liberating experience.

With Graykill's burial completed, Ahsoka hesitated; she had indeed dreaded having to say goodbye. However, ironically, she dreaded her next task almost as much as the funeral itself, if not more.

Ahsoka stood, let out an uneven breath, and then turned to regard the polished stone before her. In the light of the bright clear day, it was easy to see her reflection on the glossy surface – easy to see the two scarlet and yellow eyes still gazing sullenly back at her; they still had not changed back to their normal color in spite of the changes of heart she'd experienced aboard the Star Destroyer, and that terrified her.

 _I can't let that get me down anymore,_ Ahsoka thought, trying to build her confidence for the coming task. _Master Anakin redeemed me once from the power of the Dark side already – it only holds as much power over me as I give it._ She thought, trying to foment the energy and determination within herself that she had not felt in quite a long time.

Ahsoka removed the two lightsabers from her hips and knelt before the plot of freshly disturbed dirt under the carved stone monolith, taking a moment to quell the fear of failure she felt, and then placed the two sabers unceremoniously on the ground before her.

As before, the material world gradually fell away and became nothing as Ahsoka let her thoughts and senses extend forward, concentrating the the two lightsabers and finding the two ailing crystals within.

Unfortunately, as Ahsoka had expected the ensuing battle of wills was grueling. However, the Togruta no longer felt the addicting tug of the crystals' murderous influence on her mind – only a malign presence that needed to be rooted out with a vengeance that Ahsoka hoped she finally possessed again.

It took everything Ahsoka had not to lose herself in the effort – many times it was only the memory of the fallen human that sustained her through moments of weakness; other times it was Ahsoka again remembering her failings that helped steal Graykill away that spurred her onward again.

When the Togruta finally opened her eyes again, the waning light of evening greeted found her lathered in sweat – it was difficult to form a conscious thought that could pierce through the muddy cloud of exhaustion that dulled her mind.

Nevertheless Ahsoka grinned, settling onto her rump in the dirt and wiping her brow; she let her hands close tentatively around the handles of one of the two lightsabers – the one Dorrekk had used to strike Graykill down – and thumbed the ignition switch.

 _Red._

The murderous fiery red color greeted her the moment the saber flared angrily to life, and the blade nearly tumbled from the Togruta's hand at that; the horrified discouragement slapped Ahsoka more forcefully than any physical blow, and she stared in disbelief at it for several long moments, even as her other shaking hand closed around the second blade.

 _Red._

Both sabers remained the same unforgiving, hostile scarlet that they had been before she started… So what had gone wrong? Where else had Ahsoka failed? She'd poured every aspect of herself into them exactly as before.

Defeat tugged at the Togruta more strongly than ever before, and for once, she didn't have the strength to withstand it anymore; slowly, Ahsoka spared a glance back at the meager campsite she'd set up a short ways down from the grave site: it seemed so far away now.

As the features of the camp blurred, Ahsoka merely pressed a hand to her head and settled into the dirt beside the grave, unable to think anymore.

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

"…You've made me very proud, you know." Graykill began quietly, startling Ahsoka – the Togruta gaped openly at his sudden appearance even though the thin apparition of the human only reinforced the grim reality that he was dead; she tried to jump to her feet in disbelief, and found she seemed to be rooted to her spot.

Instead, quietly, the human sat beside the Togruta and snuggled up to her; unlike before, he easily reached an arm out and wrapped it around her, fondly – there was no tremendous drain on his life force as there had been before.

"I told you that you could still change, and I was right. I knew you could bring back the goodness I sensed in you, and that is why you've made me very happy. You've come a long way, but, you aren't finished yet – you have a bit farther to go still." He said; Ahsoka retreated into his embrace, hardly able to speak.

"What do you mean?" Ahsoka tried to keep from whimpering the question as she spoke. "I did everything I could to turn away from the darkness – I thought I would be done! Is it always going to be a part of me then!?" She demanded somewhat shrilly, only settling after Graykill quieted her gently.

"In a way, yes." The young man said, bluntly. "Never forget that the call of darkness will _always_ be there," Graykill said comfortingly, as if that which Ahsoka spoke of were nothing more than a minor inconvenience, "But so will I."

"You still hold the fires of hate close within your heart. You still hurt inside, too – that is why you failed at the task you set yourself after today." Graykill explained solemnly a moment later.

"How is that possible? I rejected all of it – for _you_!" Ahsoka said in desperation; however, the young man merely shook his head and smiled ruefully, unperturbed by her outburst.

"Wrong: The hate you feel is no longer directed outward, so much as within." Graykill replied patiently, and that struck Ahsoka as she pondered his words – then, for some reason, the Togruta was again visited by thoughts of Master Anakin, almost certainly a victim of Chancellor Palpatine's murderous plot to exterminate all Jedi.

"You still hold yourself responsible for my death – for not being able to save me from it. You haven't forgiven yourself, have you?" Graykill asked.

The observation struck Ahsoka into a stunned silence. "H-how could I?" She finally asked, honestly.

Again, to her surprise, Graykill grinned.

"Everything happens for a reason," Graykill responded without bitterness; ironically, the dead human's words echoed the prophetic saying Ahsoka knew was a central tenet in the lives of all Force-users, both good and bad.

"Although… A-although I hope it never happens, the day may come eventually that you find out just how terribly wicked someone who cannot forgive themselves for the deaths of others can be." The young man eventually said, somberly.

Ahsoka paused to ponder his words – something in them resonated with Ahsoka's Force-sensitive sense of intuition, just as they had in her cell back in the Pirate base when she'd been visited by some vision, dream, or hallucination of her dead former Jedi Master Plo Koon. However, with such scant details, the Togruta's mind pushed the thoughts away in her haste to make every moment with Graykill last.

"…Don't be so hard on yourself – for my sake as well as yours," The young man said quietly. "––Because, after all, we won."

"How in the Galaxy can you say _that_ after everything that's happened?" The Togruta asked, mystified.

"You _beat_ Dorrekk – you did single-handedly what the ten of us put together could not do. After years – maybe a lifetime of abuse for some of us – do you have any idea how satisfying it was to see?" Graykill asked, amused, before growing a little more thoughtful.

"…Besides that, getting the chance to spit in his eye one last time was worth it, no matter the cost." Graykill remarked. "…And do you know why? Because, in spite of all he horrible things him and his minions planned to do to you… You're free. My beautiful twinkling star is free to shine, and brighten the night sky of so many others still in darkness elsewhere in the Galaxy." He said, prompting Ahsoka hugged him very tightly for a moment, missing him all the more keenly.

"…I watched you stand up to Dorrekk the first time I ever laid eyes on you. I've seen the way you move, the way you carry yourself, especially in a fight – you reminded me of a hunting _Zalaaca,_ and although the idea was certainly romantic to me being an ordinary human, I doubt you would have truly been the type to be satisfied with the quiet life of marital bliss for very long," Graykill continued; "You've still got plenty of trials and adventure ahead of you."

Something in the human's prediction for her future rang true in Ahsoka's mind; she knew it instinctively, and in spite of Graykill's words, she felt a vague tinge of bitterness toward the Force itself, for having chosen such a cruel method of preparing her to resist the path of the dark side.

"…I did the best I could to say goodbye." Ahsoka eventually responded, changing the subject and casting a glance back to the stone behind her.

"I see that. It looks wonderful – but as I said before, it doesn't have to be a goodbye. In a way, I will be with you wherever you go, watching over you. And, I'll be waiting for the time when we can be together again." Graykill responded; that poignant, ominous statement filled the Togruta with both dread and eagerness at the same time.

However, before much more could be discussed on the subject, the young human paused and looked away, as if someone or something had caught his attention in the distance; however, despite all of her abilities, Ahsoka saw nothing when she followed his gaze out into the nothingness – nonetheless, when the young man turned back, Ahsoka instinctively wanted to reach out for him, realizing what would come next.

"…I have to go now." Graykill nodded quietly, embracing her tightly – Ahsoka tried to latch onto the human; she did not want to let him go, even if it meant following him to parts unknown, but in spite of her best attempts, she could not gather the strength to get up and follow him.

"…It was wonderful seeing you again, Ahsoka," Graykill said, his voice becoming quieter and more distant with every syllable, until the last words might have just been a faint echo on the night winds.

"I love you."

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

Ahsoka Togruta blinked, opening her eyes to the dim brightness of pre-dawn greeting her, confirming that the young human was gone. The Togruta mutely glanced around the camp in a slight daze, almost hoping she might still somehow catch a glimpse of Graykill – however, there was nothing, as she'd known deep down inside there would be, so she sat up.

In spite of spending the night laying in the dirt, with the breath of the wind-swept mountain washing over her through it all, Ahsoka felt as though she'd finally had a restful night's sleep for the first time in a long time – she felt the place within her spirit that the young man's lingering presence had bolstered her courage, and it was this she clutched onto and used to dull her physical discomforts until little more than a little stiffness and dull aches.

The sense of closure Ahsoka had only gotten a taste of the day before now fully began to flow throughout her as she settled down against Graykill's headstone and tucked her chin into her chest. As the seconds turned to minutes, the Togruta let her thoughts drift to Graykill's words as she prodded herself to concentrate on the meaning behind them.

Thanks to the young man's gentle reassurances providing a measure of relief and level-headedness, the Togruta began to meditate simply to meditate, on the previous evening's traumatic experiences: For the first time in a long while, there was nothing to run from, nothing to hide from where she sat. Here, there was no fighting. Here, there was no Sith Empire, no Jedi Order. Here, there was only peace.

 _There's also Graykill,_ the stubborn portion of Ahsoka's mind prodded itself; however, almost immediately Ahsoka forced that toxic thought away – both Master Plo and Graykill both had seen fit to caution her specifically about giving such a mindset the chance it needed to corrupt.

Without bothering to get up, Ahsoka merely outstretched a hand and focused her will upon the two devices laying where they'd rolled free of her hands the day before. The twin sabers jumped free of the dirt and slapped themselves into her hand.

Ahsoka examined the two devices for a moment in the increasingly bright light. Calling to them had been less difficult with the budding sense of serenity easing into her mind – timidly, Ahsoka's thumb drifted to the ignition switch on the Shoto, the shorter of the two blades. Would they still be red?

 _Of course they would,_ Ahsoka thought, brushing away the idealized fantasy that perhaps they might have changed somehow on their own during the night – she'd done nothing to change them in her sleep; glancing up at the pinking horizon far in the distance directly ahead of her, Ahsoka's thumb left the switch, and she let her head thump back against the chilly smoothness of the polished headstone.

 _They're still red because they still echo the turmoil that is within me,_ Ahsoka finally realized, after some more time spent in quiet reflection.

Though Ahsoka had discarded the murderous rage toward other lesser beings that was the hallmark of the most dangerous of Sith Tyrants, she'd still kept the pain of the young man's loss alive and well within her; as the grayness of the coming dawn gave way to the first golden yellow slivers of the sun, the Togruta realized that the horrible self-loathing she'd harbored at not being able to prevent Graykill's death must have continued to resonate into the crystals, leaving them their terrible red color.

 _Graykill never forgave me for letting him die – he never held a grudge over it against me in the first place… Could that be what Master Plo meant when he'd said that the Galaxy might suffer at the hands of someone whose good intentions were twisted into something bad?_ Ahsoka wondered, drawn to the mystery surrounding the cryptic statement, and feeling horrified at even the idea that she might one day grow to be a threat to so others.

The pinking sky grew brighter with the coming of the sunrise – Ahsoka took in a shaky breath as she did so. _Today… Is a new day… The first of – possibly – many in my lifetime_ , the Togruta thought, feeling a strong tinge of irony given her death-defying lifestyle. _It may not have been a day Graykill lived to see, but he made it clear he would not be bitter over it if I could witness it for him,_ Ahsoka thought, beginning to concentrate again.

 _I… Have to be strong, and move on. For him – for both of us._ She corrected herself mentally, remembering his statement that she would never be truly alone again. However, as Ahsoka's focus began to form around the sabers, the Togruta stopped, realizing she was likely already preparing for failure again.

Instead, Ahsoka turned her concentration inward, locating within herself the lingering bitterness, resentment, self-loathing, and despair that had taken root. It almost physically hurt to openly confront for the very first time in this way the feelings which had been weighing on her mind so strongly since she'd begun to despair while wallowing in her own misery as prisoner – they came rampaging back in a blast that nearly felt as bitter as experiencing them again for the first time.

However, unlike before, this time as the first gentle rays of the sun began to warm her skin, the Togruta maintained steadfast focused on her newfound source of purpose and peace: _You're free. My beautiful twinkling star is free to shine, and brighten the night sky of so many others still in darkness elsewhere in the Galaxy._ Though the strain was still tremendous, Ahsoka let the storm of emotions break on her and play itself out until at last she was left as a healing wound wound: still tender, but free of the danger of lingering infection.

Awakening some time later as if from an unusually deep meditative trance, Ahsoka blinked away the bright sunlight, which was now climbing higher into the sky, and shifted her attention to the two sabers still in her hands.

 _This was the saber that Dorrekk used to cut down Graykill in cold blood,_ Ahsoka thought, staring at the offending device in her hand for several long moments in silence. _I highly doubted I would have ever wanted to even touch you ever again, let alone carry you by my side as a treasured companion like I once did… But, while I know I'll never, ever be able to forget that… If there's hope for me, then there's hope for you yet too,_ the Togruta thought. _It's time to see how far the limits of my forgiveness reach._

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

The twin silver beams in the Togruta's hands hummed, casting their brilliant silver light across the polished stone of the memorial – however, Ahsoka's gaze was momentarily pried away from them by something shining in the reflection off the stone: her silvery-blue eyes, illuminated faintly by the light of the twin silver beams.

A tightness in Ahsoka's throat dogged her, but she extinguished the blades and let out a deep sigh of relief – then, she pressed a hand to the cool rock of the headstone, patting it.

 _There's nothing for me here anymore,_ Ahsoka thought to herself, though the thought was ironically a happy one: no longer did she feel the desire to linger there by the grave's side, until at last perhaps hunger and thirst finally managed to drive her away. She stood, feeling the desire to once again be in motion – she'd spent enough time here already.

Hanging her sabers on her belt, the Togruta's hands closed around a crate – in minutes, she'd completed loading most of the few things she'd brought there onto the much smaller, far less conspicuous ship she'd purchased with the proceeds from the sale of Dorrekk's freighter.

Then, when all was prepared and ready to go, Ahsoka returned once more and for the final time to the stone that marked Graykill's final resting place. No longer did it feel like she would be leaving the human behind anymore as she remembered his words: _as I said before, it doesn't have to be a goodbye. In a way, I will be with you wherever you go, watching over you_.

Still, something seemed unfinished, and as Ahsoka once again saw the reflection of her newly restored cerulean blue eyes in the unblemished stone of the monument face, she realized what it was… And drew the saber that Dorrekk had used to claim Graykill's life.

Adjusting the settings, Ahsoka drew the 'blade' – which she had dialed back in size until it resembled a light dagger instead. Pausing for only a moment to think, the words came to mind, and Ahsoka set to carving the epitaph as she could manage with the tip of the shortened blade, in the stone:

 _Here lies Graykill, a slave no more;_

 _You're free – My beautiful twinkling star is free to shine,_

 _And brighten the night sky of those who had been trapped in darkness_

 **o[#########*##]==================================================**

 _ **Epilogue**_

An ugly dread filled Ahsoka as the burned, melted, blackened, starship cannon pockmarked, and burnt-out hulls of the once-vaguely familiar town became visible in the far distance through the view port of Ahsoka's ship as the craft slowed in speed and began a landing descent.

What had once been a relatively picturesque collection of plasticrete huts at the top of a large hill was now almost literally a ghost town, and in spite of all the time Ahsoka had spent gradually becoming desensitized to the sight during her tenure in the Clone Wars, it was difficult looking upon this particular hamlet once again, so soon after her recent ordeal.

The loading ramp of the ship sank into the Earth with a quiet whir; however, not even the hiss of the starship quietly venting its excess engine gases could shield the Togruta from the smell of rotten flesh; Ahsoka strode down it numbly, taking in the destruction.

The door to the friendly old human – Gertrudymede – that had once been opened to Ahsoka in shelter just weeks ago, now lay smashed open forevermore; at first, the Togruta had returned to this tiny hamlet with the hope of checking on the survivors of the Pirates' visit. However, it was now abundantly clear that in his unending wickedness, Dorrekk had not shown even a single inhabitant mercy.

Rotting corpses lay strewn about where they hadn't been burned to a crisp or entombed within the crushed structures of the tiny town's few buildings the day it had been sacked; Ahsoka felt her stomach clench, and her hands clenched around her sabers.

Before, Ahsoka might have allowed herself herself to feel wholly responsible for their deaths; however, the wave of hate and anger that passed after Ahsoka spent several moments steeling herself against it mentally – a moment later, her hands left her sabers, and she took a shaky breath to stop and think: Nothing more could have been done for these people.

However, Graykill's words echoed strongly in her mind: _My beautiful twinkling star is free to shine, and brighten the night sky of so many others still in darkness elsewhere in the Galaxy._ Ahsoka nodded very slowly as she realized that the Pirate's death would certainly be a boon to his present victims, as well as those he might have eventually preyed upon in the future.

 _Revenge is not the Jedi way,_ Ahsoka thought, casting her thoughts to Graykill and all the other decidedly non-Jedi things the young human had stood for in his life; _Then again… I am no Jedi_ , Ahsoka thought, as she took a measure of satisfaction that at least the deaths of the towns people here had been fully avenged by Dorrekk's destruction.

Once Ahsoka had done as much as was possible for the dead villagers, she strode back up the ramp to her ship, not casting a glance back as she began departure proceedings.

A wave of determination began to grip the Togruta as her ship carried her upward through the highest reaches of the planet's gathering dusk – elsewhere across the Galaxy, there were many wrongs needing to be righted, and with the Jedi order burned and gone, there were much fewer people now than ever before left to strike back at the creeping spread of the Empire's wickedness.

 _Graykill said there are still a lot of other people in the Galaxy whose lives are still shadowed by darkness…_ Ahsoka thought to herself, as the starship's light and sub-light engines flared, and their bright glow in the distance became indistinguishable in the glittering twilight from the lights of countless thousands of stars.

… _Well... It's time for me to start lighting up the night sky!_

 **==================================================[##*#########]o**

 **Author's Note:** Once again thank you to all who have enjoyed and cared enough about my work to finally see it through to its conclusion. Y'all the real MVP's.

I also want to thank those who cared enough to leave constructive criticism or enthusiastic comments, which are always greatly appreciated.

I sincerely hope the conclusion was to your liking, and I wish you well in the coming year of 2018.

Cheers!

-G.


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